Not What I'll Have You Believe
by Sabriel41
Summary: Two years after Meteor, celebrations are set in place for the first Midwinter's Festival. But as a fugitive princess and redhead exTurk discover, there are those who would do anything to disrupt this tentative peace...
1. The Gin and Tonic

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part One**: The Gin & Tonic

* * *

It was ten days until the Midwinter festival - the height of the holiday season - and Reno was solidly drunk. 

Jaden, the bartender of the Turtle's Paradise, looked at him with mingled concern and dismay as the redhead's wave for another drink nearly swept him off the bar stool. Shaking his head, Jaden walked over. At least the bar was nearly empty - it wouldn't do for the reputation of Turtle's Paradise to be harboring absolute drunkards. Besides, he usually got one or two of these guys each time he took the night shift, so he was used to sending them on their way. He couldn't help but wonder what each of them avoided by spending hours in the smoky, comfortable bar. Especially someone this young, and this far into the holiday season - the redhead seemed to only have a couple of years on Jaden in age, and yet he was precariously close to drinking himself under the table.

"That's enough for one night, pal. I think you should be heading home for the night." But as Jaden reached forward a hand to take away the glass, the seemingly discombobulated young man reacted with impressive speed. One hand snapped down fiercely on the barkeep's wrist, where the other cradled the aforementioned glass carefully.

"No." With an expression that any two-year-old would be proud of, Reno pulled the glass closer to his chest."You know, if you knew who I was, you wouldn't be refusing me a drink." But the barkeep's gray eyes were resolute, despite the fact that his trapped hand was rapidly turning an interesting shade of red.

"Don't care, doesn't matter, and bar's closed."

Immediately, Reno's eyes swept the room, lingering on the sparsely populated tables behind him. He may have been mildly - more than mildly - inebriated, but his eyes told him that the bar certainly wasn't closed.

"Look. We can do this the easy way, or the difficult way..." Pausing, Reno lifted the nightstick partway out of its holster and grinned at the barkeep. "You won't like the difficult way."

Despite his every attempt, Jaden couldn't help but catch a slight breath as the man on the other side of the bar revealed his weapon. It made sense now: although the young redhead had seemed familiar when he stomped into the bar, he wasn't one of the regulars and was certainly foreign... but the way that the older patrons edged away at his approach should have been enough of a sign. The unusual weapon clinched it. The red hair, the temper, the inclination towards gin and tonics were good clues, but very few people could successfully wield a nightstick. None of whom he had any desire to meet personally.

Least of all this one.

Reno, the infamous ex-Turk, was sitting at his bar, and if the rumor mill held even the tiniest scrap of truth in its various fabrications, Jaden knew that it was definitely safer to just give in and give the redhead his drink instead of refusing again.

Watching the young barkeep carefully, Reno's smile turned predatory. Good. The boy had realized who he was. _Who I **was**_, Reno corrected. _The Turks are gone_. But before he could chase that thought further, the barkeeper interrupted his reflections.

Gray eyes met green as Jaden replied. "Look, you're hammered. I know it and you know it. I also know it's probably not the wisest thing to prevent you from having another drink..."

"Damn straight," Reno muttered.

"...but then you have to let me get you someone to give you a ride home from the bar to your hotel or whatever. No way are you driving any sort of moving object - you'd hit something, or worse, some_one_."

"Would not," he paused, "unless I _wanted_ to." Reno used his free hand to straighten up on the stool. "So, how about that drink?"

"How about that deal?" Jaden didn't know if that was one push too far, as Reno's temper was legendary for good reason, but the other man seemed more amused than annoyed. Besides, Jaden wasn't used to showing his fear; he had learned at a young age that it usually made the situation worse.

Unbidden, old memories of a young girl sprung into his mind, her deep brown eyes flashing with what he would soon learn was one part curiosity, one part fury, and three parts trouble. He had grown since, and towered over her now, but oh, that day, he had not...

Distracted, Jaden didn't even hear Reno mutter "Fine, whatever floats your boat, kid," or notice the other man's head sink to rest on the bar.

_. o ._

It all had happened in the year that he and his family moved to Wutai to help his granddad run the Turtle's Paradise, and, bored by the so-called "adult stuff" that had to be done while moving in, the then-twelve-year-old Jaden had taken it upon himself to explore. He had thought the architecture was a little strange, and there were these weird statues all over the place, but there had to be kids his age to play with somewhere.

"Boring. . . boring. . . boring. . ." he muttered. He had just about given up hope, when, on the steps of what had to be the largest house in the town, his eye caught the sight of a girl about his age examining a small pile of materia. Jaden's attention was immediately piqued. He didn't know a lot about materia, but he could tell, even at a distance, that what this girl was working with was of very good quality. However, before he could ask exactly what she was doing with it, she caught sight of him.

"What're you staring at, buster?" Gathering the spheres to her chest with a wary look, she addressed Jaden.

"Wasn't staring."

"Was so!"

"Was not!"

"Was not!" she doubled, dark eyes dancing.

"Was s-" he caught himself mid-retort, catching the smug grin on her face. Rolling his eyes, he sighed. But, since it seemed that she wasn't going anywhere until she got some sort of answer, he continued. "I wasn't staring, your Royal Annoyingness. I just noticed you had some nice materia."

Although her expression turned dangerous at his taunt, it softened as she noted the admiration for the materia she cradled against her t-shirt. "Uh. . . thanks, I guess. These two," she gestured with her free hand towards two spheres, one pale green and the other bright purple, "were from my Pop." Gesturing over her shoulder at the large pagoda, she grinned. "He runs the place."

He smiled in return. "So I guess you really _are _a Royal Annoyingness, Princess, or do you have a name?"

"Yuffie Ayame Kisaragi," she answered. "Though 'Princess' sounds good from you, y'know." Pausing, Yuffie toyed with the small shuriken she had pulled from the small pouch hanging at her hip. "Just so ya know, call me 'annoying' one more time and you'll be finding one of these where you don't want it found. I'm good, but I'm always up for target practise."

Coming from a slip of a girl, that statement might not have intimidated most people, but this Yuffie's expression was dead serious. Plus, she had an inch or so on him in height. While Jaden was more than adequate with his fists, those ninja star things were long range. Concluding that aggression would cause more trouble than it was worth, he tried another tack, and smiled cheerfully as he replied. "Fair enough... Princess."

She quirked an eyebrow, but noticed that he had to swallow a slight gulp... "So, what'd you know about materia, kid?"

"Name's Jaden." There was only so much a guy could allow.

"Jay-den, then," she retorted, deliberately exaggerating his name. "It's not a very Wutaian name. You're not from around here."

Jaden shook his head. "Nope - family's from Junon. We're here to help Grandpa run the Turtle."

Yuffie's eyes widened. "You're Ono's grandson!" Smiling at the thought of the old man who handed her materia and other treasures on the sly, she looked speculatively at the boy. Deciding that he looked friendly enough, and if he wasn't, she _had_ warned him, Yuffie smiled and held the five materia she was holding out to him. "Any friend of Ono's is a friend of mine! You wanna see these, or what?"

"Sure!" Taking them, Jaden sorted through the small pile. Four were pretty ordinary: Fire, an All, a Restore, and an Ice, but they were certainly well-loved. Wondering what sort of hobbies would allow a girl his age to possess near-mastered materia, and quickly deciding that he didn't want to know - Jaden examined the last materia, nearly dropping it from his left hand as he realized what it was. "Steal, if I miss my guess," he muttered, unaware that his thoughts were being vocalized. "How'd you get your hands on this one, Princess?"

"I told you already! Geez, don't you listen?" Sticking her tongue out playfully, she added, "Yeah, it's a Steal, I just don't really know how to use it. Not too many people 'round here have one; Pops told me it was pretty rare."

Jaden nodded, and, handing the rest of her materia back to her, he pushed up his right sleeve to reveal a silvery vambrace that stretched from his wrist to just below his elbow. Gesturing towards one of the materia embedded into it, he looked up at her. "I have one, and it's easy to learn how to use it." A plan forming, he flicked Yuffie's Steal materia up his left sleeve. Her usually keen eyes, intent on his other arm, missed this. Then, as if nothing was amiss, Jaden continued. She had to learn sooner or later not to hand off materia to a stranger.

"And?" Yuffie asked, puzzled by his pause.

"And, um..." Jaden eyed the distance between where they stood and the next turn in the road. Coming to the conclusion that by the time she realized that her Steal was stolen and reached for one of those killer stars, he'd be well enough away. He certainly _hoped_ he would be. Not like he was going to keep the thing; he'd probably just drop it with Grandfather Ono, and let her figure it out.

Yuffie's expression was quickly turning suspicious, so he schooled his expression and cleared his throat. "Basically, all there is to using the Steal materia is three things. One - an innocent expression, complete with an easy smile." Taking a step back, he smiled winningly. "Two - the ability to use sleight of hand," he continued, waving his hands in front of him to demonstrate that they were empty. Time for the next phase. "The last, and most important thing, Princess, is simply the ability to run like hell."

Jaden turned, and proceeded to do exactly that. "Five. . . four. . . three. . . two. . ." He rounded the corner, counting under his breath in anticipation that was half worry and half adrenaline. True to form, her shout sounded out just as his lips formed 'one.'

"Why you little. . . give it _back_, YOU JERK!"

At her words, Jaden added an extra burst of speed. He turned, twisting through the narrow Wutaian alleyways with childish agility. But he couldn't hear footsteps behind him, which was odd. _Huh_, Jaden thought, _you'd think she'd make some noise_... As he came around a bend in the alley, he breathed a sigh of relief. The Turtle's Paradise was feet away - home free, and the Yuffie-girl wasn't even in sight.

As a throwing star thudded into the ground between his feet, he realized that she didn't need to be in sight to be trouble.

"Hey! Jaden! I think you have something of mine." Yuffie called. His escape route had been predictable, but she had no clue how he'd hidden her Steal materia without her taking any notice of it. The uncomfortable feeling of grudging admiration was swept away by one look at his expression. Grinning at his mutinous expression, she jumped down from the rafters of the lowest roof of the Turtle's Paradise.

"How - how'd you do that?" Jaden stuttered, alternating his gaze from the amused girl to the lethal-looking star embedded in the road between his feet.

"Ninja, remember?" Voice dripping in sarcasm as she pointed to herself, Yuffie replied. "Now, I'd like my materia back, unless you really want me to miss next time."

"Uh, um, sure. I was gonna return it anyway," he answered, petulance sneaking into his tone.

"_Suuuuuure_ you were. Anyhow. I'll call it even - _if_ you help me with the sleight-of-hand stuff you mentioned." Before he could interject, his eyes meeting her own no longer with apprehension, but with mischief, she continued. "No more running away; I'll find you."

"Is that a threat, Princess?"

"It's a promise."

"Well..." Pausing dramatically, Jaden conceded. "Since you've given me no choice, I accept." As time passed, Jaden came to realize that the decision to teach Yuffie the secrets of the trickster's trade was probably one ofhis most foolhardy decisions. But that day, foolish choice or not, he had made a valuable - if troublesome - friend.

_. o ._

Now, looking between the dozing ex-Turk slumped over the bar, and the grown-up, but equally dangerous young woman playing with a horribly familiar shuriken at one of the shadowed tables, Jaden's grin turned calculating. Oh, this was going to be fun -_if_ he could get behind some sort of mythril shield before the fireworks started.

Throwing caution to the wind, Jaden called her over. "Hey, Princess. Up here for a second."

Eyebrow raised, and still fiddling with the shuriken, she unfolded herself from her seat and ambled up to the bar. "Is there a problem, Jaden?" Yuffie asked, tossing the metal star up and catching it in midair, much to the obvious disquiet of her friend.

"Would you stop doing that, Yuff? It gives me the heebie-jeebies."

The young woman in question only smiled. "You ever think that that's _why_ I do it, Jade?" Still smirking, her eyes slid appreciatively to the dozing redhead. "Who's the sleeping beauty? Don't think I saw him come in..."

"He beat you here." Pausing to gauge her mood - she seemed pretty contented, he thought, playing with her shuriken and appreciating strange men. But even after seven years of being the closest thing to a friend that she allowed, he still didn't understand her at times. Still, as his shout had shaken Reno into something closer to consciousness, Jaden didn't have long to get Yuffie to agree to what he had planned. "I need a bit of a favor, y'see."

Taking in the late hour, the emptiness of the bar, and the possibly attractive redhead beside her - although she'd had a bad history with that hair color - her eyes narrowed in speculation. "What kind of favor?" she asked cautiously.

Jaden looked up from the gin and tonic he was mixing. "This guy needs a ride back to wherever he's staying. There's no way I'm letting him go anywhere on his own; heck, you can tell he's had one too many. I can't leave till close, Shinji's on sick leave -" he watched as her eyes darted around the room for the other bartender to no avail. "Please? You've done it before, I know, but this will be the last time. I _promise._" Looking up at her with comically pleading eyes, he bit back a huff of disappointment.

"I _taught_ you that look, Jaden. Don't _even_." Yuffie paused, only to cave heartbeats later, throwing up her hands in defeat. Her friend looked more like a bug-eyed fish than a pleading puppy dog, but she was going to laugh if he kept up that look for one more second. "Fine," she sighed. "I'm in. But if he lays one finger on me - you got that, Jade? - you're going to totally wish you never asked."

"That depends completely on how good looking you are. . . _princess_. . ."

Both Yuffie and Jaden's eyes darted to the redhead, who swept back his bangs as he straightened up. Still facing the bar, Reno smiled and inclined his head slightly. "My drink, assh requested. Exshellent." Propping one elbow on the counter, he raised the glass.

Yuffie's mind was flying.She had heard that voice before. It had been a while, but he seemed familiar and she wasn't quite sure that that was a good thing.

An old flame?

Certainly not.

Someone she had appropriated materia from in her early days? Cocking her head to the side to look at him, his profile mostly hidden by the long crimson strands, she dismissed that thought. Drunk at the moment or not, she doubted it. There were easier targets. Something was missing about him, though. Ah well, all she could do was ask.

"Say, mister..."

He set his glass down, finished, and turned slowly to look at her. "Yesh?"

Intrigued russet met glittering emerald.

And, for all that both parties were known for their unusual, extensive, and undeniably colorful rhetoric, the only word that either managed was a simultaneous and incredulous...

"_YOU_?"

_. o ._

**TBC. . .**

_o ._

* * *

_Disclaimer_: Most things you recognize belongs to Square Enix and affiliates. Really, the only things I can lay claim to thus far are Jaden, Shinji, and the plotline. 

_Sabe's Scribbles_: Every tale has its beginning, and this is the start of theirs..."Believe" is, at its core, a love story, but it is one that takes a good deal of fight scenes, of intrigues, of repartee and various _other_ characters falling in love first to get there. Part of this is the fault of the central characters, but a considerable part falls to the mayhem that is about to pick up and toss Yuffie and Reno about...

Thus, sit back, and I hope you enjoy the fireworks. The fun is, as they say, just getting started.

Additionally, this story runs canonically with the game, but **not **with any of the subsequent sequels or prequels such as _Advent Children, Dirge of Cerberus, _or _Before Crisis._


	2. The First Kiss

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

* * *

**Part Two**: The First Kiss

* * *

This time, Reno succeeded in falling off of his barstool, completely overcome by laughter. "Rest assured, kid, there's no way I'm touching anything on that scrawny bod of yours. I don't really go for toothpicks." _Hmm_, he thought, _I hit a nerve there; the Wutaian girl's face is at least as red as my hair, and those hands sure don't look friendly..._ Inebriated or not, his perception wasn't far off - one of Yuffie's hands was balled into a fist at her side; the other inched towards the shuriken bound to her back. A small part of what remained operative in the ex-Turk's brain told him to shut his big mouth.

As per usual, Reno ignored the thought, deciding that he could probably get a few more words in. He'd forgotten how much fun taunting someone who actually _reacted_ was. The last person he'd had any fun with was Elena, but she had adopted Rude's stoic front in response to his pranks quickly, much to Reno's disappointment. Shaking his head to rid it of thoughts of his two ex-colleagues, both who still wore the deep blue suits, but for a different master, Reno dusted off his pants and used the stool to rise to his feet. "'Sides, your little boyfriend here'd probably try to kill me if I did."

"It's not like that," Jaden started, but Yuffie, who looked as if she would cherish nothing more than feeding Reno to the nearest Nibel Dragon, interrupted. Although the young barkeeper had disliked the loud ex-Turk on sight, the undiluted fury in Yuffie's glare allowed him the smallest bit of sympathy for Reno. Jaden had seen that look on his friend's face before, and knew if there was a Nibel Dragon - or hell, a monster of any credible size - closer to their current location, Reno would be in serious trouble. More than he was in _already_.

"Him? My boyfriend? You're more cracked than you look, Red!"

"The name's Reno."

"Pssht, I knew that," Yuffie mocked. "Kicked your scrawny, drunken ass a time or two, too, if I remember right."

Reno's eyes flickered to the oversized shuriken the girl carried on her back – it was _her_, all right. Shiva, of all the people he could have run into from that band of fools, why couldn't it have been, say, Tifa? At least Lockheart was a looker, even if that spiky-haired Strife would have killed him for looking. "You're that Yuffie chick that ran around with AVALANCHE, aren't you?" At her vehement nod, he continued. "Ha. If _I_ recall correctly, it was your buddies who were doing more of the ass-kicking; that is, when we weren't winning." Bringing himself to his full height and looking down at the livid girl, he added, almost as an afterthought; "You were always a bit of a klutz, Princess."

Rounding on him, her right fist snapped out to connect with Reno's left shoulder. "You don't get to call me that, got it?"

Reno's eyes were mocking as he replied, although his shoulder twinged in pain. The girl could pack a punch, Reno noted. In any case, she was a worthy adversary; perhaps upping the stakes was in order. He hadn't had this much fun since the early days of taunting Elena, and the look on the dark-haired girl's face was priceless. "Now, now, no need to get violent, y'know... unless you like that sort of thing, _Princess._"

The innuendo was clear to Yuffie, and while she could tolerate a wide variety of not-so-pleasant things, allowing some half-drunk jerk to leer at her was most certainly not one of them. Swallowing down the desire to throttle Reno until he took back his words, Yuffie replied acerbically. "Last I heard, you didn't 'go' for toothpicks, you Shinra-brainwashed perv."

She'd make him eat his words, Yuffie resolved, every last one. Still, although it looked like he was as pleased to see her as she him, some corner of her conscious wondered why neither she nor Reno had acted on truly violent impulses yet. Perhaps he had matured somewhat? Didn't want yet another's blood on his hands?

_Right,_ Yuffie mused. _And Vinnie's a saint. Reno keeps this up, and I'll be driving him, but it'll be to the effing emergency ward_.

She wished in that moment, but certainly not for the first time, that she had listened to Barret or Cid when they yelled at her – Yuffie was sure that she would have picked up some colorful epithets from the older men– because she knew if she played fair in their battle of words, she'd lose. Besides, she knew she wasn't gorgeous like Tifa, or ethereal, as Aeris had been, and she most certainly didn't like being reminded of the fact. But she wasn't ugly either; the wilful daughter of Lord Kisaragi held a beauty all her own.

Tossing her hair, she decided to use the skills she had picked up from a master of quite different talents. It wasn't as if the Turk-ey across from her was into playing by the rules either.

Ready to interfere at the redhead's words; while Jaden doubted that Reno actually meant half of what he had said, there were some lines that public conversation just did not cross even in his bar, he held back to gauge Yuffie's reaction. Chuckling under his breath at her reply, Jaden had to catch his breath asYuffie straightened from her habitual slouch to throw back her shoulders, run a hand through her rebellious black hair, leave the other resting casually at her hip and raise her flinty eyes to Reno in challenge.

Jaden couldn't be sure, but it certainly looked like his tomboyish, reckless, ineffably carefree friend was standing like, well... like a _girl_. And, from the look of it, a girl that knew exactly what she was doing. He wasn't quite sure that _Yuffie_ knew what she was doing, but from the look on Reno's face, it certainly was procuring at least one of its desired effects.

From where he was standing, Reno realized much the same thing, as well as a few others; first being the thought that this brat of a girl was embarrassingly not as much of a toothpick as he had thought. "I could always make an exception," he replied quietly, eyes softer than they had been for a split second, before glittering coldly once again.

At Reno's words, a soft glow seemed to dance about her stomach. Yuffie quickly dismissed the strange reaction, choosing to grin gleefully instead. It had worked. _Score one for the Yuffinator_, she thought. _Who knew that picking a thing or two up about posture and such from Teef could be so useful?_

Still, there was only one way to reply to such an insinuation. "You wish, old man."

_Okay. So, maybe that wasn't the wisest thing to say_, she mused, _him being a Turk, and dangerous, and all_. Biting back a giggle, she looked back at him and her smile faded. Damn. He was still staring. It wasreally uncomfortable, him looking at her half like he hadn't eaten in weeks and she was one of Shera's home-cooked meals and half as he'd been hit by a plane, or a truck, or a Choco-Mog summon. Thankfully, this situation lacked the blood usually present after the latter events, but, _still_. That sort of look was supposed to be for girls like Tifa.

...Something was up. She just wasn't quite sure what, and she didn't like it at all. The not-knowing bit, that was – the funny, toe-curling reaction was kind of amusing, and thus, okay, even though she was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to be getting that sort of reaction in response to anything _he_ did.

As Reno's expression switched from astonishment to fury, Yuffie decided that she didn't like _that_ all that much either, and took a step back, leveling her eyes with his. He might be four inches taller than her. He might be – _hell,_ she thought, _he certainly _will_ be armed._ His eyes might be flashing murderously at her, and she knew she deserved it. He might have a reputation that stretched from Icicle Inn to Mideel for ferocity. But Yuffie Kisaragi was not about to back down.

"Your jaw's on the floor, Reno. Kindly pick it up before you leave."

"Why, you little brat!" Stepping towards her, Reno shook his hair back and reached for his nightstick. How dare she? How dare she throw his words right back at him? And most of all, _since _when_, in the name of the Lifestream, had she grown up?_

Shiva, his head hurt. _The alcohol must be sinking in, cause she looked almost.. pretty... for a second_, he thought reluctantly.

A small fist that seemed intent on barreling through his stomach quickly remedied that uncharacteristic thought. Obviously, she didn't want him to call her _that_, either. The hand that wasn't reaching for his nightstick reached for her fist, and caught it as she drew it back to her side. "I wouldn't do that again if I were you," Reno warned, taking another step towards her. This seemed to intimidate her, especially as he used his considerably taller frame to its advantage, glaring hotly down at the black-haired girl as he clenched her wrist.

Silence. Time slowed down as they looked at each other, and even seemed to contemplate a complete stop...

...until her booted foot snapped down on his and her free hand chopped sharply at his wrist, twisting her other hand out of his grip as she did so. "I wouldn't do that again if I were you, either," she taunted. Safely out of his grasp, she swung one arm nonchalantly, and carefully rotated her other wrist to return the circulation to it.

Still, something weighted his hand down, and he casually opened it to look at what must have fallen off as she twisted away. _Well, now, that certainly makes things interesting_, he mused, carefully tucking the small orb into a pouch at his waist. _I could almost thank you, Kisaragi_.

It took him a second, after looking back up at her, to realize exactly what she was swinging from her hand, and his right hand flew down to where his nightstick had been holstered. 'Had been' were the operative words. Too late, he recalled taking it out of its holster in anger – he hadn't meant to actually use it on her, but he had hoped it would intimidate her as his words had not – and she must have purloined it as she freed her wrist. "Give it back, you little thief!" he roared.

She was too fast. "Why should I, slummie?"

...Now that was just one step too far. One simply didn't go about insulting that part of his heritage and getting away with it. When he got his nightstick back, she was in some serious trouble. He was almost at the point of not caring about the promise he had sworn to himself two years ago, which was in quite clear terms not to ever hit a woman again. Then again, she wasn't _exactly_ a woman, so he figured he had _some_ leverage.

"Cause it's mine, kid. And you didn't ask." As he spoke – slowly and carefully, so she wouldn't take flight as she had before – Reno edged forward and Yuffie stepped backward, almost in bizarre parody of a dance. Almost there; her back was nearly to the wall, the bar was to her right, and there was a table directly to her left. _Perfect._

While she might have been retreating physically, Yuffie chuckled at his response. "Pssht. Don't try to fool me. You Shinra automatons don't have feelings, hence, you don't really care 'bout little stuff like this stick-thingamabob, even if it is pretty cool. 's cause," she added tauntingly, "cause you can't care 'bout it."

Although he rolled his eyes, Reno felt a twinge of pain at her words. That was below the belt. Again. It wasn't like two couldn't play at that game, and he'd had a fair amount of practice. It was usually more one sided in his favour but this challenge was refreshing.

_She_ was refreshing.

That was a frightening thought, and he quickly swept it aside. "Now, now, that's just a little cold," Reno purred, taking another step towards her. Raising his voice, he added, "one would have thought you'd have learned better. Or is that just the way it is among you terrorists?"

_He did not just say that_, Yuffie thought. _He absolutely did **not**_. Unconsciously, she took another step backwards, cursing silently as her back hit the wall. Glaring up at the redhead, she proceeded to insult Reno's lineage, parentage, masculinity, appearance, and everything else she could think of as she realized he had trapped her.

"...that's physically impossible, no she wasn't, and you know, I'd rather not," Reno replied nonchalantly to the last three insults. Had that old pilot given her lessons in swearing? Ifrit, the girl knew a few even he didn't! Looking away from her, the reaction from the rest of the bar caught his eye.

Ah.

They were causing quite the spectacle, Reno noted with a trace of glee. The few patrons who were left in the bar had stopped their conversations, and seemed engrossed by the show that he and Yuffie had been putting on. Ah well, he'd always been a decent actor, and even tipsy as he was, could play this little scene quite nicely... However, her voice turned his eyes back to her again.

"Don't take another step, you dirty murderer," Yuffie hissed. _Stall him_. There. That was the plan until she figured out an escape route. She could, with a little more space, jump up and slide over the unoccupied table to her left; Jaden would whine for months about the broken glasses, but she could pay him back... No, that wouldn't work; it was still too far to the door. The nightstick was Reno's primary weapon, but if she made off with it, she was pretty sure he had a gun somewhere on his person. _No way is he as good as Vinnie_, she thought, _but he probably is a disgustingly decent shot – so the over-the-table-and-out-the-door plan's out._

He only arched an eyebrow at her comment, and inched forward again.

"What?" she asked, exasperated. _No snappy comeback? Now that was new_.

She had fallen for his trap, and Reno's smile grew condescending. "Only this – aren't you being just the littlest bit hypocritical, Princess? I recall right, you knocked off a few people along the way yourself." He was close enough to touch her now, if he reached out.

And despite the fact that she looked as if she would gladly emasculate, decapitate, and then proceed to defenestrate his body if he even thought about touching her, he proceeded to do exactly that. One only lived once, after all, and Reno Fraser was no coward. More pragmatically, it'd be one hell of a distraction as he stole his nightstick back; stomping on people's feet was hardly his style.

Reaching forward, he traced her cheek with one hand – a little more delicately than he'd intended, but he ignored the little voice in his head that pointed that out – and used the fingertips of his other hand to dance down her arm in order to get his weapon back. She was furious, oh, that much was obvious, but she shivered as his fingertips touched her skin, and he knew he'd won.

"Get. . .Your. . . Hands. . . Off. . . Of. . . Me." Yuffie hissed, eyes slightly dilated but still enraged.

Feeling the cool metal of his nightstick at his fingertips, Reno smiled. "Whatever you say, Princess." Leaning into her, he grabbed the weapon and twisted it successfully out of her hand, bending to briefly, mockingly brush his lips against hers.

"I think I've won," he whispered against her lips. "I'll just be going now."

But he missed the surprised smile on her face that had turned calculating, as well as the movement of the hand that had been holding his nightstick, which casually flicked a small red orb up her sleeve.

Reno only managed to straighten halfway before two things happened simultaneously to belie his previous statement. She slapped him. Hard.

In addition, a hand that was not Yuffie's clapped down on Reno's right shoulder, authority clear in its grip.

Swaying slightly – Reno asked himself not for the first time why he seemed to find some twisted pleasure on getting on this girl's bad side – Reno locked eyes with Jaden, who had his other hand in a similar position on Yuffie's shoulder.

"Don't move. Either of you." His expression stern, Jaden turned to address the rest of the bar's patrons, who had abandoned any pretense at other conversations and were observing the fracas at the bar with frank curiosity. "Nothing to see, folks," he called amiably. "Back to your drinks, it's just a lover's quarrel."

Looking up at Reno – more specifically, the bright red mark on Reno's cheek – a tiny smile crept onto Yuffie's features. _Serves him right_, she thought, _how dare he. . . how dare he presume that he could do that without meaning it? _At Jaden's words, however, she pulled a face. _A **lover's **quarrel? __Ew. _

(Yet, there it was again, that butterfly-like glow.)

After a satisfactory number of customers had turned back to their drinks, Jaden turned to Yuffie. His eyes were disappointed as he addressed her. "I thought better of you, Yuff. I don't know what kinda history you two have, but I asked you to help to prevent trouble, not cause even more of it. You know how Godo is, with 'his baby daughter gallivanting at the bar' and all." At the hurt look in her eyes, his tone softened. "I know, I think it's a load of dragon dung too, but this won't help things. I'll ask you one last time. Can you take this guy back to his place without either of you requiring medical attention because of it?"

Yuffie nodded, eyes downcast. Jaden was right. Stories about her and Reno would undoubtedly reach her father's ears – terribly warped by then – and that would make things even worse between she and Godo than they already were. There were enough problems with her father's insistence for her to produce an Heir or at the very least a Consort, and her retort along the lines of telling him to find one himself if he wanted it so much. Needless to say, the intra-family relationships of Clan Kisaragi were far from being happy and shiny, and this incident could only make matters worse.

"As for you," Jaden said as he looked at Reno, "I don't know who taught you manners; if anyone did, I'd be surprised. The banter I could take. She was giving back just as good as you were, so I'll let that slide. But –" and here, Jaden nearly whispered, " – although I should feel some kind of guilt for doing this, cause you're inebriated and all, I can't allow you to hurt her. You can't treat her like trash and expect to get away with it." As he finished, his fist snapped out, catching Reno in the stomach. Reno doubled over to soften the impact, but still hissed with pain. "Consider yourself warned. If you hurt her, stranger, I know who you are and I'm aware of what you were, but you're not the only trained fighter in this bar." Green eyes met gray, and although it was the gray that broke first, Jaden's message was clear.

Carefully, Reno inclined his head towards the other man. "Touché," he replied. "For what it's worth, you have my word. Not as a Turk – I'm not one anymore – but as a fellow fighter."

Yuffie could think of several possible retorts to Reno's words, and rolled her eyes at Jaden. Geez, didn't he know that this guy couldn't be trusted? _I mean,_ she thought, _this is Reno here! He's not exactly the most moral, law abiding person. Though, I'd love to know where the other two-thirds of his entourage is, cause they sure as heck aren't gonna fit on my motorbike... _

It took a moment for Yuffie to process the rest of his words,but as she understood, her eyes widened. "What d'you mean, you're not a Turk anymore?"

Jaden winced.

Reno sighed. "I'm just... not, anymore," he replied, as civilly as he could. "You will just have to trust me too, Miss Kisaragi."

Politeness seemed to work as intimidation and mocking attention certainly had not. It was Yuffie's turn for her jaw to slacken, as she looked at him like some previously unidentified and thoroughly icky species of reptile. _He sure as hell isn't a Reno_, she thought to herself. _Renos weren't polite to Yuffies if their lives depended on it – though from the way that he was wincing, and from the look on Jade's face, Reno's life just might have been a factor in his politeness._

"Is there a problem?" Reno asked brightly, his injury and prematurely impending hangover forgotten for the moment.

_Oh, his tone was innocent_, Yuffie fumed, _but those eyes of his were as malicious as they'd ever been._ He knew she'd have to trust him temporarily, and she supposed that turnabout was fair play, but that didn't make the situation any easier to swallow. To the credit of his claim, Reno _wasn't_ clad in the trademark blue suit, and Yuffie had harbored a theory from an early age that Turks did everything short of showering without taking them off. Besides, the other two Turks were certainly nowhere to be found. _'Sides_, she reasoned, _if any or all of the Turks were headed to Wutai, Reeve woulda given me some sort of heads-up, being their boss and all._

Frowning, she wondered why Reeve had never mentioned Reno's going renegade to her, and made a note to bug him about it when she traveled to NeoMidgar for the Winter Festival. On that note, she had to start packing.The festival was only a couple of weeks away, and it'd take a few days to get there.

"Earth to Yuffie; you there?" Jaden's voice cut through her thoughts, and shaking her head, she smiled back at him.

"I'm here, Jaden... and _NO_, Reno, you are not having another drink." Reaching forward in mid-sentence, she caught the retreating redhead by the collar of his shirt. Catching him off guard, she was able to pull him back to where she and Jaden were standing.

"Aww, spoilsport," he replied teasingly.

"No."

Green eyes wide, he cajoled her. "C'mon... please?"

Yuffie was losing whatever patience she still had. "No, no, and in case you didn't hear me the other zillion times, NO! We're leaving, you're getting on my bike, and I'm taking you home with me. End of story."

Jaden stifled laughter behind his hand. Reno had no such inhibitions; a chuckle burst from his lips at her words. Cocking his head to one side, he studied the petite girl carefully, but not without interest. "You're taking me home, Princess? I'm honored and all, but I'm not that kind of guy..."

Pale cheeks blossoming with color, Yuffie sunk her head into one of her hands. "Geez, grow up," she muttered.

Brushing past the two men, she headed for the door. About halfway to her goal, she stopped to rake the rest of the room's occupants with her eyes. "I know who's here," she stated, "and I also know that if one word of what happened here gets to Godo-sama, whether true or fabricated, I will find you, and I will make you wish you hadn't said anything. We clear on that?" No one replied, but she took their silence as acquiescence. "Good." Head high, she walked out of the bar, tossing her shuriken as she left.

"That's your ride, man," Jaden said to Reno, moving to stand behind the bar again. "And I don't envy you. Yuff's a crazy driver when she's pissed, and you set her off pretty good. In any case, you'd better get moving; she's not too good with the whole patience thing."

Nodding, Reno looked straight at Jaden, his brilliant green eyes measuring the other man. "You know, if I had time to wonder, I'd wonder why you didn't just call me a cab in the first place."

"It's less expensive and more interesting this way, although I have to admit she doesn't usually entertain half the bar with most people I get her to drive back to their places."

"In a strange way, that's good to hear, though I don't feel too lucky right now." Turning back around, Reno placed a hundred-gil note on the bar. "Thanks for the drinks."

Jaden couldn't help but smile after the tall redhead as he walked out. "No problem."

* * *

..._to be continued_...

* * *

_Disclaimer_: The realm, the people, and the materia all belong to Square Enix and affiliates. The plot and Jaden belong to me. 

_To Come_: Well, so much for this chapter being the aforementioned trip back to where Reno was staying. That's coming next chapter, along with tipsy Reno, pissed-off Yuffie, and a motorbike that's probably too big for its driver. As is a little bit of history repeating, Reno's explanation for leaving the Turks, and just which materias have been mutually 'borrowed.'

_Sabe's Scribbles_: Big "thank-you's" to my first two reviewers (_Errn_ and _deity of death_); I'm glad you like the story so far! Now to the unknown reader: if you liked what you read, loved a line in particular, or thought a character could use some tweaking, send a note my way. It's always appreciated!


	3. Once A Turk

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Three:** 'Once A Turk…'

_. o ._

Reno couldn't help but let out a low whistle as he caught sight of Yuffie's bike zooming around the corner of the Turtle's Paradise. A Shinra Wave IX - the distinctive blue and green wave along the side of the fuel tank identified it immediately to Reno's exacting eyes. One didn't see too many of those anymore, which was a pity, if anyone were to ask him; they were one of the best that the small sector of the company had produced. Naturally, the Wave class were limited in number and expensive as hell… He half-wondered if Reeve had pulled some strings to present this as a birthday present or something for the girl, who seemed pixie-like behind the handlebars of the powerful racing bike, her spiky hair tamed by the helmet. Her visor was up, leaving her impatient frown all too clear as she got closer to where he stood.

It took him a second longer than it should have to realize that it didn't look like she was slowing down all that much and the bike was getting uncomfortably close to where he stood. Opening his mouth to tell her to stop, the redhead almost choked on the cloud of dust that the motorbike stirred up as it screeched to a stop at his side.

"What's the deal, Princess?" Green eyes met equally annoyed brown, until the brown eyes sparkled.

"Pssht, you were taking too long, _old man_. 'Sides, I figured it wasn't fair for me to have been the only one with a bad taste left in my mouth." Shrugging nonchalantly, she scanned the street, ignoring the gradual stiffening of his shoulders as she insulted him.

_Huh. _He could understand that she was a little bit mad, but she didn't have to slur him about it, much less take it out on one of the most beautiful pieces of machinery he'd seen in a long time. "You _do_ know that's not good for the bike, don't you," he asked condescendingly, sweeping the dust off of his sleeves. She had done it deliberately, the little witch.

"The end justified the means – that look on your face was priceless, Red." Shrugging again, Yuffie revved the engine. "Now, are you coming or not? 'Cause those storm clouds sure as Hades are, and I don't wanna be caught out in them 'cause I had to go out of my way to drag your skinny ass back to wherever you're staying."

Reno had to bite back a retort – his ass was _not_ skinny, and it certainly wasn't any of her concern – but whatever temperance that he'd picked up from working with Rude picked a fortunate time to step in. He snapped his mouth shut, matched her shrug, and looked up at her carefully. The kid at the bar was right; Yuffie _was_ mad, and he was almost certain that she would take complete enjoyment out of needling him all the way to... 'oh, _hell,'_ Reno thought madly, 'where exactly _am_ I staying?'

Something in his expression stopped Yuffie as she looked down at him from the idling bike, and she groaned softly. "I don't _believe_ this. You don't know which inn you're at, do you?"

"Just remem'bring…" he muttered. "This place uses weird names; all poetic-like… they're hard to remember. So sue me."

The alcohol was starting to kick in – Reno could feel it numbing, softening the edges of his consciousness – and he swayed slightly in his step. Oh, this was not good at all… he was _not_ about to start staggering and slurring around her, only for her to bring the news back gleefully to that band of fools that she was undoubtedly still in contact with. He didn't care what Strife and the rest thought about him; he didn't like them, but his quarrel with them, however fabricated for the sake of the Company, was over.

What would hurt was the news would get back to Rude and Elena eventually, through Reeve, no doubt. And he had left them with such high hopes, convincing Elena and calming Rude's quiet skepticism with tales of how he would make a life for himself beyond the walls of NeoMidgar…

_. o ._

"… I know what you're saying, but I still think you'd better stay here, Reno." Elena replied firmly.

"Look," Reno answered, looking from where she perched on the edge of the desk to where Rude sat calmly behind it, eyes guarded, but eyebrows knitted with concern for his reckless friend and colleague. "I don't expect you to understand, either of you. An' I know I'm leaving the Turks shorthanded, but I know you two can handle it – things're different now."

Rude nodded slowly from where he sat. "Reeve."

Eyes flickering to his friend, Reno inclined his head in return. "Exactly. He's a bit soft, but maybe – Gods, I can't believe I'm _saying_ this – maybe that's what this "NeoMidgar" needs, right? The space to grow; to breathe again…" Trailing off, Reno seemed a little puzzled by what he had just said.

Wiping an invisible tear from the corner of her eye, Elena smiled wickedly. "Never knew you were a poet, Reno."

He snorted in reply, rolling his eyes, but he smiled as he looked over at her. She was as perfectly dressed as ever, her blue suit carefully pressed – albeit with the gold Shinra pin conspicuously missing – but other than that omission, not a hair out of place. She could probably stand inches from Meteor, he mused, and not ruffle a hair. And yet, Reno thought, he was actually going to miss her. "Don't try that shtick on me, 'Laney. Won't work."

This garnered a faint smile from Rude, and a chuckle from Elena; but it was the latter who replied. "So if you can spout all that about 'growth' and 'rebirth,' and such, why leave now, Reno? I mean, you could probably write speeches for Reeve, with words like that. You can do anything, now…" The blonde woman trailed off as she realized that she had just given him an 'out' in the conversation, which he would have had to have been deaf to miss.

Reno took it, but his smile was wistful as he countered her words. "Exactly, 'Laney. _Anything._ And I'm - I'm too deep in the game to leave it this quickly. Maybe I can change my stripes, but I'm going to need to run through the rain before they'll fall off, and lie in the sun for a while before they fade. And I have to do it alone, I think. Just take some time away from this city and all the memories that it holds, ya know?" At her downcast face, Reno stepped forward, and gently lifted her chin with his fingers. "Besides," he added, putting a false sprightliness into his tone, "can you really see me being happy as a _speechwriter?_"

Her reply was almost inaudible. "Of course not, silly."

"Oy, Elena, you're not going to get all maudlin, are you? What'll people think of the Turks if they go all blubbery at the drop of a hat?"

Reno couldn't quite discern what she retorted with – the fact that she had, for the first time in their acquaintance, slipped her arms around his back, and was hugging him, her face buried at a point just below his shoulder probably having something to do with that – but he could pick out the odd word. "…arrogant… prat… miss you…"

Carefully extracting himself from her grasp, he ruffled her hair nonchalantly, if only because he knew that while he could deal with a glaring Elena, a sniffling one was another thing altogether. Reno never dealt too well with passively upset women, and he knew it. "Whoa there, Laney. Who said I was going for good? I can't let you live the rest of your life completely happily ever after with strong, dark, and silent over there, now can I?" Smiling brightly at her, his green eyes sparkling once again with mirth, he backed up until he was a safe distance from her fists. Rude was indisputably the best with his fists, but Elena was no powder-puff, especially when angry or ruffled. And she had taken a few pages from his own book, Reno mused; the blonde Turk was more volatile, and thus more likely to use those aforementioned fists than Rude was.

Rude's chair, screeching back across the tiled floor as he brought himself to his feet, shook Reno out of his thoughts. "You _are_ going, aren't you?" Taking off his sunglasses, and folding them before placing them in the breast pocket of his jacket, the tall man's eyes displayed an awkward concern.

"That I am, my friend. It's been fun, and it's been real, but it hasn't been real fun, y'know? Oy, don't you start bawling on me now too."

Rude raised one eyebrow in a look that quickly turned into a smirk as Elena's fist connected solidly with Reno's shoulder at his condescending words; Rude knew that what she'd done wouldn't damage his red-haired friend at all. It just would hurt like hell for a moment or two. And he figured that the smirk, and the knowledge was justified; he'd taught Elena that punch.

Reno caught the look that his two colleagues - friends - exchanged, and pasted a look of mock-horror on his face. "I get it," he cried dramatically, deliberately misinterpreting the warmth in their eyes. "It's all a big plot! You're not going to let me leave, are you?" Clapping his hand over his heart, Reno looked up at Rude and Elena, both who appeared to be fighting laughter.

"Well…" Rude started.

"No," Elena continued, her blue eyes dancing.

"Not until we give you this." Opening the desk drawer to his right, Rude stifled a chuckle at the look on Reno's face. He sobered as he remembered that Reno had seen someone being "dismissed" in this way before, but instead of pulling out a firearm, which had been the case in the so-called dismissal that he and the redhead had executed years ago, Rude's fingers clasped around a package wrapped in blue and silver paper.

Laying it on the top of the desk, he nudged it towards Reno, who was dividing his attention between rubbing his shoulder, glaring playfully at a grinning Elena, and looking with mild worry in Rude's direction.

Rude couldn't help but feel a bit hurt at the wariness in Reno's expression; he considered the younger man the closest thing he had to family. To a younger brother, to be exact. Still, their years as Turks had hardened both of them, and it _had_ been his hand that held the pistol in that assassination, so he supposed Reno's worry was justified. Cracking a rare smile, Rude nudged the package forwards once more. "It's not going to blow up the second you touch it, Reno, although for some reason I can't decipher, Elena thought that that might be sort of funny…"

"I did _not_!" Elena retorted, and before Rude could move, her fist impacted with _his_ shoulder, which twinged accusingly. Perhaps teaching her that move wasn't as amusing as he had thought.

"He's such a tattletale," she groused to Reno, who was now completely convinced that his colleagues had officially become a few bricks short of a yard. "Come on, open it up…"

"You guys got me a present?" Reno asked slowly. "Seriously? A 'hail-fellow, you're nuts for leaving, but we hope we'll see you again someday' present?" Grabbing the present in one hand, he shook it carefully, delighting in the expressions on his colleagues' faces. He'd never admit it the way that Elena just had, but he was going to miss them both. Carefully undoing the meticulously-knotted ribbon – Elena had to have wrapped it, as the mental image of Rude creating the elaborate corkscrew bow was just too ludicrous for serious consideration – Reno's face broke out into a grin as he made short work of the wrapping, and lifted a silver watch out of the tissue within the box. On the face, his initials – RJF – were engraved; a nice touch, he thought.

"Wow, guys…"

"It's more than it looks, Reno. Turn the frame around the face twice, and you can contact either of us directly. It's the newest breakthrough in communication." Obviously, Elena had a hand in the creation of the watch; her excitement and pride shone in her eyes. "Not that you probably want to contact us, or anything, Mr. Renegade…" She paused, her voice cracking only a little. "But if you ever need us, either of us, you can contact us with that." Pulling up her left sleeve, she displayed the identical watch to his, albeit a little daintier to account for her smaller wrist. "Rude's got one too."

Rude nodded in reply. "There are a few other features that Elena added for you, but we figured we would let you figure those out on your own." Seeing the question form in his friend's eyes, Rude answered his question before the red-haired man had time to form it. "And yes, it does tell time, too."

"Perfect fit," Reno uttered as he tried it on. Looking up and finding one pair of brown and one pair of hazel eyes looking back at him, he smiled as bravely as he could and mumbled his thanks. But the silence that threatened to spread across the room was broken by the sound of a short series of knocks upon the door. As Elena went to answer it, Reno was surprised to see Reeve walk through the door and follow Elena into the room. Ever-irreverent, Reno chuckled. "Boss-man!" Reeve tried unsuccessfully not to cringe at the address, and Reno continued, gleefully aware of the discomfort that the other man derived from his nickname. "You've come to tell me not to go, too?"

Reeve, however, was not about to back down. "Planet only knows how Tseng kept up with you, Reno. I'm not asking you to stay, but informing you that should you ever be interested, the door is open for your return. However, I need you to know a few things before you leave."

Settling himself in the chair that Rude had vacated, Reeve steepled his hands on the desk and returned Reno's look. "First: you have to know that your past position in… what was the old man's euphemism... 'Administrative Research' is not going to count for anything once you walk out that door. We can guard you – somewhat – but you're no longer above the law, Reno."

Catching the smirk on the younger man's face, Reeve continued, his tone sterner. "That goes for _breaking_ the law, too."

"Ya know, Boss-man, you're a real spoilsport."

"That was the idea," Reeve countered. "I'm now going to be even more of a spoilsport, and ask for your ID tags and passcard back, because I can't allow you that sort of access if you're no longer working as a Turk. But –" his voice cutting off Reno's protest, I'm going to give you something in return that will hopefully help you out more pragmatically if you ever get into trouble." Answering Rude's chuckle and Elena's unladylike snort at his comment – they all knew that Reno attracted trouble like a lightning rod attracted, well, lightning – with a smile of his own, Reeve finished by placing a small box into Reno's hands. "Consider it a trade."

As Reno looked at the box's contents, his eyes went comically wide. And he stuttered in his reply – something that he didn't think he'd ever done before. "That's - that _so_ is not what I think it is."

"Silly," Elena piped up. "That all depends on what you think that is. Although from over here, it looks like a Summon Materia."

"Bahamut Materia to be exact, at mastered level." Reeve's answer was concise, but it confirmed Reno's suspicions. "It was one of those that I got to keep after…" he replied, his voice trailing off. It didn't matter. They all knew what he meant by 'after.'

"I gotta say I'm impressed, but why give me this? I mean, it's mastered, valuable as hell, you barely know me, and we were kinda on opposite sides there, Reeve."

"You know, I'm not exactly sure why, Reno. But I do know that you're going to need it more than I will these days – conjured dragons won't be of much use to me anymore, unless they want a job in construction. That and you kind of remind me of someone..."

Although Reno was curious – he _did_ want to know who he reminded Reeve of – he figured that if the older man wanted him to know who, he would have told him outright. Instead, Reno nodded, and fished around in his pockets until his fingers closed on a familiar card-shaped piece of plastic. If Reno had been nearly anyone else, he would have found the moment symbolic; taking himself quite literally out of the past, and with one last look at his ID card before passing it over to Reeve, stepping into the future. But, because this was Reno, the symbolism was lost, although the finality wasn't.

"Well, I guess that's it, then," he said quickly. "Thanks for the gifts, Rude… 'Laney… Reeve. I'll be seeing you around."

"Reno…"

"Reno! Red! _RENO_! Wake your scrawny ass up!"

"Go 'way, Laney," Reno mumbled, eyes still closed tight. Planet, couldn't the woman let him have a few more moments of sleep? This bed was way too comfortable for him to want to move, and nothing could be _that_ important, could it? Reno froze, however, as he realized that there were a few things wrong with his most recent statement and subsequent thoughts. For one, since when had there been a _bed_, much less one this comfortable, in the Turk headquarters? More disturbingly - Elena, in all the years that he had known her, had never called him 'Red.' There was only one person on the planet that called him that nickname, and she wasn't the tall, poised Turk. "Yuffie?" Reno questioned carefully, his throat feeling like someone had made him swallow a ball of sandpaper.

"In the flesh, Reno. Man, I've seen some killer hangovers, but aren't yours just a _little_ accelerated? I mean… don't most wait 'til the next morning to show up?"

At her words, he winced. He knew she wasn't talking that loudly, but oh, his head _ached_. Worse, it seemed like he had been unconscious during the deliciously numbing 'burn' phase of his drinking, which was just brilliant; that was the only part that he enjoyed. As it seemed that this overcurious, irreverent, annoying-as-hell but strangely fascinating bundle of girl-woman wasn't going to let his question go unanswered, however, Reno sighed and replied as succinctly as he could, not wanting to talk about the past to her.

He didn't even want to _think_ about the fact that some corner of his seditious brain found her fascinating. If he talked, he reasoned, he wouldn't have time to think. "Modifications. And can you pipe down just a little?"

"Well…"she deliberated, her grin easily matching the most devious smirk he'd ever produced, "it would be a lot more fun to sit here and yell at you. You _are _defenseless, you know that? But because I'm kind, and wise, and supremely benevolent, I'll be quiet. No," she reconsidered, "I'll just be leaving now, so it'll be quieter anyways." Finishing, she clapped him briefly on the shoulder, using the same hand to lever her body up from where she had been crouching beside his bed.

She _had_ to be crazy. "You're kind… and wise… and supremely benevolent?" he echoed, his voice pure disbelief.

"That's what I said," she replied, laughing as she walked away. Turning her head to look at him over her shoulder, she called back, a little louder. "Later, Red. Or, y'know, maybe not."

She turned again, and her hand fell on the doorknob of the small room – _his_ room – at the top of the Autumn Lotus, one of the smaller, nicer inns on the southern side of Wutai. It wasn't as if she really wanted him to stay somewhere nice, Yuffie told herself; Sabrina, one of the girls that she had trained with years ago, had been willing to give Yuffie a deal for the room, although the ninja didn't look forward to walking through the lobby again and explaining to her friend just who the "drop-dead gorgeous" young man whom she had practically carried up the stairs with her was.

There had to be a back door out of this place, she thought half-heartedly. The window certainly didn't look too likely an escape, and she'd have to explain why she was leaving out the window to Reno, which would be much more embarrassing than answering Sabrina's questions with non-committal nods and grunts. Reno was like she was, Yuffie had realized; he would _never_ let that sort of answer slide…

Moreover, though she didn't look forward to biking home in this weather – Yuffie could hear the storm from inside, even though the window was closed and the blinds shuttered over it – she certainly wasn't going to stay here. With him. Nope. Even so, she froze at his voice, the half-turned doorknob forgotten.

"Say… princess?" he asked, his voice a good deal softer than he intended.

"What, Red?" The use of nicknames between them struck her as just a little strange, but names – their real names – seemed too intimate for now; too rich with memories, with 'ghosts of the past,' as Nanaki had once put it, to use. Leaning casually against the door that she had been headed towards, she looked back, expecting a sardonic smirk, and more likely than not, a juvenile request for a glass of water, or some food, or – _Leviathan forbid_ – another drink.

His eyes were calm instead of dancing, and his request was a good deal more complicated than she had expected.

"Why'd you stay? Hell, why'd you bring me here? Far's I can understand, I blacked out in front of the bar… you could have left me, y'know…"

Something in his tone made Yuffie catch her breath: the sheer _defeatedness_ of it took her by surprise. She had taken him to be a fighter, and here he was, obviously sucker-punched by something. _What_, she wasn't sure. But a defeated Reno was certainly a lot less amusing than a sarcastic one… and for all that the larger half of her brain figured that he deserved it, the scum who had followed those Shinra idiots, and who had made their lives even more trouble over the years that she'd traveled and worked with AVALANCHE, something stopped her from leaving the room without answering. Braving the terrifyingly green depths that were his eyes, she answered quietly.

"Honor, Red… honor."

Grasping the doorknob in her trembling hand – Yuffie wasn't sure what she had seen in his eyes, but it had left her weakened, and she wasn't sure she liked the idea of that – the ninja turned it, and walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

_. o ._

_...to be continued..._

_. o ._

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yuffie, Reno, Wutai… heck, anything you recognize within reason probably belongs to Square/ Square Enix. However… the plot, and all appropriate minor characters are mine.

SABRIEL'S SCRIBBLES: Rude and Elena wanted their say, and although that little vignette stretched to become most of this chapter, I figured it worked… And, yes, _there will be more to come!_ I know it sounds like I could end it here; and while that thought is tempting (it'd be nice to finish a fic for once!) there are still places that I want these two to go, and lines that are dancing around in my head for them to say… oh, it'll be an interesting journey, but it'll be fun…

Huge thank-you's to my reviewers – _Kinky Usagi_, _Ktrena_l, _sheep_, and _Zarina_ – your kind words went a long way, and definitely fueled the writing process of this chapter. - I'm really glad that I'm keeping the characters true to form; to me, that's really important to the soul of the fanfic. Now, to the unknown reader; the choice is yours, as always, but I do hope that you leave a note to say what you liked, what you thought needed work; I'll definitely consider your words.


	4. The Materia

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Four**: The Materia

_. o ._

Once she was safely around the corner, Yuffie took the liberty to beat several dents into a perfectly innocent wall with her forehead. _Real smooth, Kisaragi_, she cursed. _I mean, who in their right mind tells a guiltless murderer – much less Reno of the Turks – that she does anything out of 'honor' and expects them to understand it?_

Rolling her eyes and removing her forehead from where it had impacted with the wall, (the dent didn't show... much...) Yuffie held back a groan as she imagined how the plastered ex-Turk had reacted to her statement. A lot of swaying, and slurring of words, and general ridicule on his part played a prominent role in her mental reconstruction, and the young woman shook her head angrily to clear it. A waste of time, those thoughts were. She'd kept up her bargain with Jaden – Reno was warm, dry, and in a relatively safe place for the night, and now she was going home, scary-as-hell thunderstorms that had appeared out of _nowhere_ or not. With any luck, she'd never see the acerbic, scrawny, drunk excuse for an ex-Turk again; although, Yuffie had to cede, as she rolled his mastered Bahamut materia around her hand, meeting him hadn't been a total loss.

Returning it to the secret pocket inside her sleeve, Yuffie's expression grew fierce as she realized that the ex-Shinra scum must have filched Bahamut from Reeve. The stern executive with the dancing eyes had been the one to retain that particular materia after it all had ended.

"What kinda man are you, Red? Stealin' from your own side... that's just low."

Yuffie got about two more steps down the hallway before she realized the sheer hypocrisy of her words, and she froze, flushing slightly. "Aww... I was young and stupid," she told the empty corridor. " That didn't count! 'sides, I _returned_ it all, didn't I?" Even so, her pace was more hesitant as she started walking towards the stairs again.

Grimacing as she realized she still had to face Sabrina and her inane line of questioning, the young ninja's pace became more brisk; no plausible escape route had been discovered previously, despite her search, and besides, one inquisitive teenaged girl couldn't be that much of a threat, could she? _Besides_, Yuffie reasoned, _Sabrina'd probably bring up nothing other than how "gorgeous" she thought Reno was. While annoying and **completely** untrue - although he did smell nice - she'd only have to listen for as long as it took her to get to the door._

Still, something felt wrong, leaving that room and the unusually defenseless young man within it. It wasn't that she _missed_ him – _ew_ – but while Yuffie wasn't an expert at hotel management, she knew a vacant floor when she walked through one. Yuffie wouldn't have wasted half a thought on that, if Sabrina hadn't absolutely _insisted_ that the only empty room was the large suite at the top of the hotel. It had cost a little more, but it came out of the largely-unconscious Reno's pocket, so she had grinned, figured the joke was on him, and thought nothing of it at the time. Now? Alarm was ringing clearly throughout Yuffie's mind as she paced down the hall. Something wasn't right.

_Oh, right, Yuff. . ._ she berated, trying to calm a heartbeat that had accelerated disgustingly in the last few moments. _Gawd, girl; you could create monsters out of shadows with your eyes closed. Breathe. It's gotta be that having Red appear out of bloody nowhere is what's causing this, even if he doesn't have that blue suit anymore. Just residual memories. He turns up, and you immediately go into super-spy mode. _Yuffie couldn't help but allow the smile quirking the edges of her lips to grow at the thought of Reno's old Turks suit. Or, more specifically, Reno's old Turks suit with Reno _in_ it. Even if it had immediately signaled trouble with a capital T in her days with AVALANCHE, Yuffie had always thought it was rather... dashing.

Sure, she scorned him the same as Tifa did, calling him a wanna-be badass with something to prove, and she'd never admit it in a million-billion-quadrillion years, but there were times where she couldn't help but think if he wasn't who he was, and she wasn't who she was... things might have been different. But even if their more recent pasts were set aside, a Wutaian renegade princess and a Midgarian slum fighter weren't exactly your traditional match-up. Recent pasts considered - oh, there would be chaos. And he'd laugh his proverbial arse off if he ever caught wind of what she thought of him, and that was the _last_ thing she needed.

A chuckle and a yawn mingled as they slipped over Yuffie's lips, and she wondered what time it was. She knew that she left the Turtle's Paradise with Reno at about twelve, and had waited for what had seemed like forever for him to wake up once they'd made it to the Lotus. Yuffie had told herself that it was to make sure that he hadn't killed himself through alcohol poisoning or something like that. It had scared the tar out of her when he had blacked out in front of the bar, and she had to use one arm to keep his around her waist, while driving with the other one to get to the Autumn Lotus. She had figured he would have at least a few more hours of being buzzed, but he seemed to forego that whole phase, and go straight to the dead asleep one. Idly, Yuffie wondered what he had meant when she'd asked him about it. "Modifications," Reno had slurred at the time, eyes dull... and uncharacteristically she hadn't pressed the issue.

Pestering drunk guys, while a particular talent of hers, was probably not a smart idea where he was concerned. Even drunk, Reno could move faster (and, she ceded reluctantly, think faster) than most sober guys. Additionally, Yuffie most _certainly_ didn't want him to kiss her again after he'd won. _At least. . ._ she admitted to herself, ..._not like that.'_

Karma was a pain, Yuffie had decided halfway through that motorbike ride. She'd had no trouble driving the Wave IX with one hand. (Oh, all right, she'd almost hit that car... and the lightpost... and that stupid kid.) But almosts, Yuffie had declared at an early age, never counted. Even so, Jaden would have laughed if he had seen her and Reno, recalling how she'd told Jaden if the redhead lay "so much as one finger" on her, she'd make both Jaden and Reno completely regret the asking. And there she'd been, holding on to _Reno_ for dear life. Albeit his. So, she reasoned, it had to count as her random act of kindness for the day. _Save life of old enemy, check_, she thought, grinning. The grin faded as she looked down at the small timepiece on her wrist.

Unfortunately, she did so just as she reached the top of the stairs – and almost proceeded to fall down the aforementioned architectural feature as she realized exactly what time it was. It was nearing three in the morning; she _had _waited forever for Reno to regain consciousness after all.

Godo was going to just _love_ this one; for all of his failings as a father, she knew that he couldn't fall asleep before she got home – the ninja figured it had to do with the way his brain was wired; some bizarre 'overprotective father' gene or some such. And a sleepless daddy dearest was a cranky one, doubly so because he still hadn't forgiven her for the ground chilies that she had slipped into the visiting emissary's tea last week. Despite her worry, Yuffie couldn't help but grin at the memory…

The emissary had been a young and conceited blond, who was representing some new corporation - Phoenix something – with interest in development in Wutai. And he'd deserved every last speck of the ground chilies; he'd done an obvious job of alternatingly attempting to undress her with his eyes and glaring at her with barely leashed loathing as she sat in for part of the discussion before growing bored and leaving. Yuffie had wondered at the young man's sanity, but hadn't excused his actions. So she'd paid him back, hiding her mirthful eyes behind a demure smile as she brought out the tea; a proper Wutaian lady on the surface, but the young blond had quickly learned - with one sip - that appearances could be very, very deceiving.

Even so, her father had taken her aside after the young man had left – to her particular delight, with a deflated ego and reddened cheeks – and scolded Yuffie for her irresponsible behavior. He'd been mad. She had tuned out. Same old, same old. But for the first time in her memory, Godo Kisaragi had been the first to back down, nodding his head sagely and smiling sadly before backing away.

And if Yuffie's eyes had widened the first time that she had seen Barret's gun-arm, they went comically _huge_ as Godo ceded the floor.

Fathers weren't supposed to do that sort of thing. They were supposed to rant, and rave, and ask her exactly why she hadn't married herself off to one of the local boys yet, and send her to her room after she answered that that was because (with the quiet exception of Jaden) they were all ideologically backwards, thick as bricks, and there was no way in Hades that any of these local boys would 'let' her do her Fearless Ninja schtick after they were married. But he hadn't done any of this. Which left Yuffie wondering as to whether her father had finally realized that his little girl had grown up...

Jumping as a particularly loud clap of thunder shook her out of her thoughts, Yuffie was surprised to see that her recollections had taken her to the bottom of the stairs; the hotel lobby was just through the red-lacquered door ahead.

Pushing it open, she smiled tentatively at Sabrina, who looked unusually predatorial. The ninja sniffed at that; if Sabrina was _that_ interested in Red, she could have him. Leviathan only knew that Sabrina was the prettier of the two; with her long, silky black hair and exotic blue eyes that were a calm front for a mischievous demeanor, the older girl had many admirers. For some reason as of late, though, she'd been brushing them off. Yuffie'd heard through the rumor mill that she was betrothed to some foreign businessman, but hadn't held much stock in it. Besides, she didn't think that someone who was engaged to be married would be drooling over some other guy...

She'd made it halfway to the door when Sabrina looked up from the paperwork that was stacked neatly on her desk, and asked implyingly, "_So_?"

Yuffie answered carefully. "So what?"

Sighing with an experienced air, the blue-eyed girl gestured grandly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Where'd you two meet, _man_, you hit it off, and does he have a twin?" Grinning wickedly at Yuffie's obvious discomfort, Sabrina finished. She didn't mean any harm, but she also had never seen Yuffie blush before...

"Let's see. We were trying to kill each other; you could say that; and no, not to my knowledge." Yuffie matched Sabrina's grin, the latter slipping as the meaning of the ninja's words clicked into place.

Leaning forward and placing her elbows on the desk, honestly intrigued now, Sabrina queried a little timorously, motioning Yuffie towards her desk. "You two tried to kill each other? Really-honestly?" At Yuffie's businesslike nod, she smiled slyly. "You've changed your tactics towards each other since... unless you usually escort those who you try to knock off to their room, _and_ stay with them for two hours after that."

Yuffie tried to hold back the blush that was spreading across her cheeks. Failing miserably, she mumbled, while doing her best to evade the question, "it's nothing. Jaden asked me to drop him off somewhere warm, and as I figured he hadn't made any reservations, I thought here would work. You know how I do that from time to time, Sabrina... Red's not the first guy I've dropped off here from the Paradise." Yuffie's voice trailed off as a small device on Sabrina's desk distracted her. About as large as Yuffie's old PHS, the bottom half looked much like a sophisticated walkie-talkie, but a screen divided into five parts dominated the upper half of the apparatus.

"What's this?"

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Sabrina answered, fiddling with the loose ends of her dark hair as she did so. "It's - ah - a security measure."

Completely unconvinced by the other girl's vague response, Yuffie decided to press for more information. Pointing at the flashing red and green dots on the top fifth, and the flashing red, blue, and purple dots on the bottom fifth of the screen, brown eyes met blue, but the blue shifted away even as the ninja girl asked, "so, what are these light thingies?"

Sabrina sighed. She should have known better than to try to keep anything from the inquisitive girl. "Mastered materia, kiddo. New policy – we have to know who carries it, in case there's trouble. It's pretty rare, nowadays, what with most of the monsters disappeared, and things relatively peaceful, most people have sold them off to buy retirement places at Costa, or passes to the Saucer. This device works by picks up on the energy that the materia exudes. You should've _seen_ this thing when you were up there with that redhead. Upper fifth was lit up like a Festival Tree, pretty much."

At this, Yuffie's half-exhausted, half-intrigued expression turned suspicious. "Rina, isn't it _illegal_ to be able to track Materia?"

Cursing silently – Sabrina knew perfectly well that this law existed, but she hadn't expected that Yuffie did – she frowned. "To be honest, I'm not sure, but I think there are different rules for hotels and other service industries," she fabricated quickly. From the look on the younger girl's face, her story sounded more plausible than she had thought and she elaborated further. "I mean, come on! Places like the Gold Saucer have had tracking devices up for, well, pretty much _ever_. It's all a matter of safety, Yuffie," she added.

Yuffie only shrugged at this. "Makes sense, I guess. Bye, then!" Waving jauntily at Sabrina, Yuffie turned, and headed for the parking garage where she had left her bike.

"You've still got that motorbike, don't you?"

"Sure do," Yuffie called over her shoulder, pride evident in her tone. "It's my baby!"

"You sure you want to drive it home? The storm outside is just getting worse, and it might be dangerous to drive a bike in this. Besides, it's late, or, um... early. You look beat, girl; it might be better if you went back up those stairs and shacked up with that redheaded buddy of yours. _I_ won't tell anyone..." Eyes sparking mischievously, Sabrina looked over to the visibly embarrassed Yuffie.

Yuffie reached her hands into the pockets of her tan-colored pants, and pulled the pockets inside out. Smiling impishly at Sabrina and hoping that the accursed blush she felt wasn't obvious, Yuffie replied. "No money, Rina. But thanks. 'Sides, a little rain isn't going to stop the Great Kisaragi!" The effect of her words was accented by another loud clap of thunder and ruined as Yuffie jumped half a foot into the air at the sound.

Although Yuffie's eyes sparked with bruised pride and threatened fury, Sabrina couldn't help but chuckle. "Whatever, Yuffie. Should I leave a note for your friend – I never caught his name – to say that you've headed home?"

Yuffie shook her head at this. The sooner that she and Reno parted ways, the better. She didn't like the effect he had on her... not at all. Besides, she figured that he wouldn't be too friendly once he figured out that she'd swiped back his Bahamut. She'd been on Reno's bad side before, if only really by default, and it most certainly was a place that she didn't want to revisit. "Nah, we're not exactly even friends, Rina."

"You're sure about that? It didn't look that way, Yuffie, from the way he was looking at you... you're not just being shy, are you?"

The ninja girl laughed loudly, although in part to cover her wavering voice. "Honestly. When have I ever, and I mean _ever_ been shy, Sabrina?"

"Good point," Sabrina chuckled. "Pretty much never. Now, vamoose! Your dad's probably going apoplexic by now, wondering where you've disappeared to."

Yuffie froze. "How did you...?"

The been-there, done-that smile returned to Sabrina's face, and she leaned back in her chair. Arching an eyebrow at Yuffie, she smiled secretively. "Come on, Yuffie. Your father would _never_ let you stay out this late."

Rolling her eyes at Sabrina's dead-on assessment, Yuffie couldn't help but nod. "Too true. But in that case, I better hurry. Adios, amiga."

Sabrina waved, breathing a sigh of relief. That had come close. Too close. But she knew she shouldn't have kept the sensor on her desk with Yuffie around; the Kisaragi girl had the eyes of a hawk, and the curiosity of a cat. Smiling grimly, Sabrina also knew that those two factors were going to get the ninja girl in trouble someday... She jolted out of her musings as Yuffie's head poked into the hotel from around the outer door.

"Sabrina!"

The addressed girl groaned quietly. Not _again_. "Yes?" she replied neutrally.

"I was just wondering - can your sensor doohickey pick up on what type the materia is, specifically? Like, say, I have a Summon, but it can tell you which one?"

_It_ could tell her a lot more than that, but Sabrina wasn't going to let the curious Kisaragi know that much. Pressing a sequence of buttons on the transmitter half of the device, Sabrina found the screen she wanted in a matter of seconds. "Summon materia, Mastered level, and the summon is largely Fire based. That true?"

"Pretty much," Yuffie grinned. "Thanks." Closing the door behind her, Yuffie stepped out from under the hotel awning, and immediately became drenched with water. It was raining even harder than she had feared. Best of all, she had left both her coat and her Barrier materia – about the only one that would be of any use in repelling rain – in her room back at the pagoda. Hurrying the few steps to the parking garage, Yuffie didn't notice through the large front window when Sabrina picked up the transmitter, hesitated for a few seconds, and then almost dramatically pressed the large blue button on the bottom corner.

Taking a deep breath, Sabrina spoke into the device, her voice determined even if her blue eyes wavered with indecision. "Coast is clear – one mastered Summon, high level Bio, Fire, Demi, Deathblow. Leveling those up, I'll bet. Two mastered Alls – he's a goldmine, guys. Probably dangerous, but pretty much unconscious. Go get them."

A masculine voice crackled over the transmitter in response, and even the static couldn't completely cover its Junon accent or its cultured tones. "As always, a pleasure to work with you, my dear. We're on it." As he finished, the connection sputtered and died.

Meanwhile, it took Yuffie until she got to her bike before the thought hit her: she was carrying _two_ mastered Summons; Leviathan, which was her birthright, and never left her gauntlet, and Bahamut, which she'd just liberated from Reno. Thinking it was kind of funny that Sabrina had only mentioned the Fire summon as she headed out, but really too tired to care...

Yuffie grabbed her cerulean helmet from where it rested on the handlebar of the Wave IX and fastened it. She'd have to make record time, and considering this was hardly the first time that record timing was necessary, that meant speeding. A _lot._ Grinning at the thought of it, Yuffie got up onto her bike, started the engine, looked down at her right hand, resting on the handlebar... and froze.

_It wasn't there_.

Where her Leviathan materia usually shone up at her, its deep red glow comforting as it lay in her armlet, there was an ominous, small, crater.

Immediately, Yuffie's mind flew back to how Reno had grabbed her wrist at the Turtle's Paradise.

All right, all right, she'd just finished punching him in the stomach... but she had wondered at the smile on his face when he let go of her. Now, it all made sense, and she was absolutely infuriated; although somewhat puzzled as to how he'd been able to fool her. Even so, Reno Fraser was certainly going to have a few more scars besides the two he already sported when _she_ was done with him. "Your seconds are numbered, Red. Make the most of them," Yuffie growled.

One may wonder if she would have been surprised to know just how right she was...

For, just as Yuffie slammed her helmet back onto the handlebar and jumped off the bike, this time ignoring the torrents of rain that fell around her as she stalked back into the hotel, a small group clad primarily in black slid out of one of the nondescript rooms on the second floor, and headed for the stairs for the fifth; more specifically, for the largest suite therein.

Their leader, a lean mainlander who went by Ethan, moved with definite purpose. He had wondered why Sabrina had stopped him when he had suggested that he go after both the materia carriers in the first place; two mastered Summons would make his month, and the two mastered Alls were a nice bonus... he had supposed, when she urged him not to, that one of them was her friend, and his guess was confirmed when he 'overheard' the exchange between the two girls in the lobby. Sabrina was a fool for leaving the transmitter on, although she had lied prettily to dissuade the other girl's questions, and didn't know that he could hear every word she was saying; she was more a fool for trusting him in the first place.

Ethan allowed himself a small smile at that; Sabrina was a pretty fool, and for that, she was still useful. She fancied herself in love with him, he knew, and while he did allow his usual façade to warm when he was with her, he could hardly say he returned the half-Wutaian woman's feelings. Women, he had learned early in life, were never to be trusted. Treated with cautious respect, when they deserved it, but otherwise dismissed. There was nothing more dangerous than an angry woman, and they flew into furies at the strangest things. His tongue _still_ burned from the chilies that that chit had planted in his tea when he visited with the Leader of this forsaken place the other day.

Even when you found an angel, the blond mused... you could never keep them. Time, or Fate, or an assassin's bullet would steal them away.

Reaching the suite that his quarry occupied, Ethan gestured for silence and cursed under his breath at the noise that his two companions made as they ground to a halt. Both were new to battle; barely out of their training camps, and he knew that while they were probably the best that the Company could offer at the time, Sabrina had said that this guy was dangerous, and that meant that the two he was with were a liability. Ethan hadn't made it this far by taking stupid risks; calculated ones, yes. But never stupid risks.

As the three slid into Reno's room, he signaled for the taller of the two other men to go through the redheaded man's bags. The shorter, he waved over to the door, and pantomimed 'standing guard.' Insulted, the junior officer scowled at his commander, and went to stand behind the closed door. His associates in position, and a definite headache coming on, Ethan approached the man in the bed, who, to all appearances, was sleeping soundly, his unusually bright crimson hair streaming over his face.

However, Ethan's foresight was lacking. Because he hadn't identified his target, he hadn't realized that he was tangling with a Turk (albeit a somewhat renegade and inebriated one.) While that idea in and of itself wasn't number one on the list of stupid risks, it came pretty darn close to the top. Especially when one interfered with _this_ one in particular... 'risk-taking' could have effectively been Reno's middle name. So, when a gun materialized out of the blankets and nudged into his chest, the blond was in trouble, but instinct and training ensured that he pulled his own gun, pointing it directly between his target's aquamarine eyes. Ethan jolted as he looked into those eyes; eyes that were undeniably furious, but oddly only half-awake.

Eyes that Ethan had seen a million times before; eyes that had haunted his nightmares for the last four years; eyes that had been the last thing that his wife had seen before this man had killed her.

"_Reno._" Ethan growled. "This _ends_ here."

Inhaling, Reno held back a groan. This was turning out to be one _hell_ of a day. First in his list of injuries was the ship over to Wutai, during which he had remembered, once again, that he was vulnerable to sea-sickness. There was a _reason_ the Turks flew everywhere, and he would have done just about anything for that helicopter, halfway through the journey. Then, the ninja girl with the legs – _Princess_, he thought angrily, _where the **hell** are you, and why didn't you stick around to kill these guys for me?_' – had punched him in the stomach, and booted him in the foot, and made him kiss her... Oh, all right, he'd kissed her because he had wanted to, but that wasn't the point. And now, there was this ninja wannabe holding a gun at his forehead. Brilliant._ Just bloody brilliant_.

Channeling his breath, Reno intensified his glare as he looked up at his would-be assassin. "Perhaps; perhaps not. It looks t'me like we're at an impasse."

Ethan smiled coldly in response. "Not quite. Safety in numbers is a marvelous concept, Turk." At this, the two other men saluted Reno mockingly, one waving a wickedly-edged knife in promise, where the taller of the two lifted a quarterstaff threateningly.

Under normal circumstances, Reno would have laughed; Ethan was the only threat in the room. Whether they knew their way around their weapons or not, Reno knew that the truth to a fighter's strength lay in their eyes, regardless of what weapon they carried. The other two were weak... but the redhead also knew that he wasn't in peak condition either; his Mako-accelerated immune system, although it shortened his hangover time, left him with a window of a couple of hours where he would be significantly weaker than usual.

Clearly infuriated by Reno's condescending silence, the blond man relaxed his hold on his gun slightly. "I came for your materia, but I think I'm going to leave with your life, you Shinra bastard."

The redhead laughed at the anger in the other man's tone. "Geez, talk of your cliche'd lines, idiot. Shinra's gone, buddy. Lineage, company, reactors. Get over it."

Ethan tightened the grip on his gun, and cocked it once. Slowly. "Be that as it may, you and your band of murderers killed - someone very close to me. I'm just returning the favor..."

But before Ethan could finish or Reno could manage a retort, the door slammed open, catching the shorter guard behind it and sending him flying to the wall, where he slumped, unconscious. A moment later, a furious Yuffie Kisaragi stormed through the entrance, completely unaware of the fully grown man that she had just knocked out. "_RENO_!" she yelled. "Wake your scrawny ass up! You better have a _damn good _explanation for..."

Yuffie stopped and her eyes widened as she took in the scene. "Who in the name of Leviathan are you two, and why the hell are you dressed like that?"

The brunet with the quarterstaff leered menacingly. "We're ninjas, girlie... you better watch out."

"The _hell_ you are," she yelled back. "_I_ am a ninja. Long heritage, proud tradition, extensive training that _your _sorry ass obviously doesn't know a thing about. And I sure as anything don't dress like _that..._" Getting into the swing of it - and generally forgetting Reno and the other man, who seemed both fascinated and astonished by her tirade (and had forgotten temporarily about killing each other) Yuffie continued. "I mean, _geez_. Where'd you pick up the costumes? The Golden Saucer? I've seen better ninjas than you on the Saturday morning cartoons."

"You know, for a woman, you talk way too much," the brunet replied angrily. Walking towards her, he fell into his fighting stance. "I'm gonna have to shut that pretty mouth of yours up, I think. And I know a way that won't make it too ugly in the meanwhile, either..."

Yuffie – and Reno – grimaced at the innuendo. "Eww. . you're _definitely_ not my type," Yuffie replied jauntily. "No offense or anything." Dodging the swipes he took at her with his quarterstaff at her words – and making comical faces at the increasingly frustrated fighter – Yuffie chanced a look over towards Reno, and smiled at him brilliantly. One of those bright, cheerful, "look at me, I'm kicking this guy's ass and not even trying" smiles. He smiled back... and suddenly, Yuffie felt like she was floating.

Probably, she realized quickly, that was due to the fact that her assailant had taken that moment to sweep her feet out from under her. He was better than she had expected, Yuffie mused, as she extended her arms to take the impact as she hit the floor, springing back to her feet in a Chao get-up seconds later, albeit a little winded from the impact.

"Ready to give up, ninja girl?" Smirking from across the room, the brunet smiled suggestively. "You're not bad; I think we could take this somewhere a little more private, though."

Slouching her shoulders to feign defeat, Yuffie caught the young man off guard. As he stepped forward to claim her, her hand that had moved unnoticed to a pouch about her waist balled into a fist. Her cinnamon-colored eyes met the unfortunate young man's, and before he knew it, he was encased in a nearly unbreakable cocoon of ice, his hand still outstretched to touch her. "I figured you needed to cool off," she quipped casually. Turning to the two by the bed, Yuffie put on her best expression of innocence, and asked, "I wasn't interrupting you gentlemen, was I?"

Ethan turned to her, recognition dawning on his aristocratic features. "You're the Kisaragi girl - the one who put chilies in my tea - aren't you?"

Yuffie grinned evilly. "_You're_ the blond, aren't you? You deserved it, you dirty old man. So maybe to get back in my good books, you can tell me what you're doing in my friend's room."

Ignoring Reno's snort of laughter, Ethan kept his tone even as he replied. "Materia, my dear. Although Reno – he is a _friend_ of yours, you say? – and I have a score to settle. Your arrival proves most interesting; I cannot let you get away with maiming both of my men, so I suggest a... proposition." If looks could kill, Ethan decided, Reno would have slaughtered him a hundred times over by now - it was obvious there was something between him and the little Wutaian. The blond didn't know _what_, exactly, but he knew that this was the perfect opportunity to show Reno exactly how much it hurt when one had found someone to care for only to have them ripped away.

Still, the girl herself was a decent fighter, if a tad reckless. Not to mention that she was royalty, which stood for something, if only that her death would be more troublesome than an anonymous vagrant. She deserved more than to be killed immediately, if only to prove to Reno that he was the better man. Reno himself would offer little resistance; the Turk had not killed him yet, seemingly weakened by something... so for the moment, he was safe.

"What kind of deal?" Yuffie said warily.

"Simply this. We shall put aside our materia, I shall not use my gun, you shall set aside your ninja stars, and we will fight. Fighter to fighter, to the point of absolute defeat. You win; I shall leave, and take these sorry excuses for officers with me. You will not hear a word from me again. I win, I shall leave Reno alive, but you will come – unresistingly, I might add - with me. What I do with you after that is my own business." Placing his gun at his feet, and deliberately out of Reno's reach, Ethan finished, the smoothness slipping back into his voice: a negotiator's voice.

If possible, Ethan mused, the prone redhead was even angrier than he had been before, and his ears were roughly the same color as his hair. In contrast, although he could tell the girl was equally upset – and quite understandably insulted – she remained comparatively calm, and nodded once, tightly. Removing the pouch from her waist, and placing the remaining Materia from her armlet into it, she kicked the bag across the floor and under the bed. "Let's go, then..." she replied, her voice cool.

At her words, they both flew into it, fists flying with precise and deadly intent, but both opponents were equally matched. What Ethan gained in strength, as his larger physique allowed, Yuffie edged ahead with her ability to judge each of his attacks, alternating kicks and punches with her skill to dodge, block, or counter Ethan effectively. Ducking as he sent a fist towards her head, Yuffie slipped one foot forwards in a low hook kick to catch at the blond's calves, and sweep him to the ground. Ethan countered by quickly shuffling backwards, and sending a side kick to her midsection. Using her front foot to push off, Yuffie edged away in a runaway side technique, but his booted foot still grazed her stomach, and she winced. Shifting her stance to stand with the other foot forward, Yuffie mimicked the blond's kick, albeit with a higher target, and caught him squarely on the upper arm with her steel-toed boots. Watching him grunt in pain and his arm slacken, she smiled coldly. There went his gun arm, at least. She doubted it was broken, but it would give her and Reno an edge.

Reno owed her _huge_ for this, Yuffie thought distractedly, blocking the double roundhouse that the blond man let fly at her, and countering with a back kick that he dodged, albeit a little slower than he had before. Blocking his kick, she moved in close and their fight became fist-oriented once more. Drawing once again on her energy stores, Yuffie ignored the exhaustion she felt slipping through her like a drug; she was running almost solely on adrenaline now. Letting a volley of punches go... neither his face nor torso were safe from her snappy jabs, and both were starting to look the worse for wear... Yuffie recoiled as one of his punches caught her on her cheek, his ring catching the skin and tearing a deep, angry gouge across her cheekbone.

In that moment, her vision cleared, and she caught Ethan's fist in her hand. Although a distinctly painful cracking noise came from it, she persevered, twisting his arm up behind his back, and grabbing a fistful of his wavy blond hair as she stood behind him, still in fighting stance. "Done yet?" she asked him coldly.

"No. But _you_ are..." came a voice from the doorway. Reno's shout of alarm was enough to pull the two combatants apart, but not fast enough to get Yuffie completely out of harm's way. A barbed crossbow bolt found its mark in her shoulder, and Yuffie screamed with pain as she felt it penetrate the flesh and muscle. Staggering, but still on her feet, she turned to see...

"Sabrina! ...Why?"

Sabrina stood in the doorway, crossbow still cocked at her shoulder. Tears danced in the Wutaian girl's eyes, juxtaposed by the fiercely determined expression on her face. "I couldn't let you kill him, Yuffie. And you wouldn't have stopped. Neither of you would have..."

It was then that Yuffie realized that Sabrina had chained a Sleep spell to her attack, and, combined with the pain of her injuries, as well as the fact that it was nearing five in the morning, the ninja's vision started to go blurry. As she fell to the floor, arrow still embedded in her shoulder, she could hear Reno's voice calling her name. Frantically. _He sounded almost. . .worried_, Yuffie thought; _wasn't that nice?_ Straining to keep her eyes open, he could see him trying to gain purchase on the pillows, and sit up. Ethan spun around at Reno's movement, and walked over from where he had moved to Sabrina's side.

"I changed my mind," he said. "I'm not going to kill you yet, Turk. But I am going to take you with me. . . _both_ of you." Sweeping his gun from the floor, he rapped the end of the semiautomatic against Reno's head, knocking the redhead immediately unconscious.

One thought flitted through Yuffie's head as the magic of the Sleep spell raced through her veins, her eyes drifting shut. If these people didn't kill her, her father certainly was going to for staying out so late.

_. o ._

_to be continued_

_. o ._

**DISCLAIMER**: Look at the ones in the first three chapters. Rinse. Repeat. Yuffie and Reno aren't mine. I just borrow them, that's all. . .

**SABRIEL'S SCRIBBLES**: Well, well, well. Needless to say, this isn't exactly where I thought the chapter was going, but it seemed to just write itself… Ethan wasn't supposed to have this much of a character, much less a name yet, and he _certainly_ wasn't supposed to be so sympathetic, but he and Sabrina just edged their way into the story, and I _did_ need some villains! Hopefully, I'm not taking the whole Yuffie/Reno thing too quickly; it has accelerated in this chapter, but I think battle does that to people; makes them re-prioritize, or at least look over things with a new perspective. Also. . . _huge_ thanks to my reviewers (_The-Muffin-Goddess_, _Tijuana Pirate_ – I hope this explains the Materia a little better, and good eyes; it'll come into play later in the story, and _Ktrenal)_; you provide much-needed encouragement, inspiration, and smiles as I open my in-box; muchas gracias, merci bien, doumo arigatou.


	5. The Captive Princess

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Five:** The Captive Princess

* * *

"This is _not_ happening…" Groaning, Yuffie Kisaragi shook her head as she opened her eyes, eyelids weighted in the trademark after-burn of a Sleep spell. It was only as the ninja pushed herself into a sitting position that she was forced to remember the effect that the carrier of the spell had had on her, or more specifically, her right shoulder.

Yuffie winced, and bit down sharply on her lip to stifle her instinctive cry of pain… if there was one thing she had learned between her time with her ninja clan and AVALANCHE, it was that you didn't let the bad guy see or hear you cry. Eyes glinting dangerously, she cursed her luck. If someone was going to injure her in a manner that was not fatal, the shoulder was a good choice… it was almost always debilitating, and impossible for her to bandage by herself. And it didn't take her ninja training to observe that between the several locks on the very solid-looking door, and visible lack of her weapons, materia, or larger lock-picking kit, she wasn't about to waltz out of the room to treat her shoulder, either. A lack of windows, trap doors, or alternate entrances made the problem just a bit more insulting. The small lockpick kit that the ninja could feel within the inner pocket of her bloodstained beige jacket would have gotten her out of any of those, no sweat.

The real problem, Yuffie mused, was compacted by the fact that there was no materia within reach for her (even for her) to treat her injuries.

With no small amount of self-derision, she recalled how she had taken off her materia pouch and dropped her Oritsuru before fighting Ethan; undoubtedly, after that two faced excuse for a friend had downed her, either Sabrina or Ethan had taken HER materia, that SHE owned rightfully.

"Security measure, my ass," Yuffie hissed, remembering the line that she had been fed by Sabrina the day before. "That was a materia tracking device, all right, but why steal the materia at all? It doesn't make sense – a few years ago, sure. A Mastered All would retire a large family comfortably… but people think Materia's losing its power, and so it's not worth half of what they used to be."

The situation would almost be funny, she mused, if her shoulder didn't hurt so much. The puncture wound was clean, and had fortunately missed most of her major tendons – the mobility of her shoulder and upper arm, however slight, indicated this. But after what could have been hours of lying on a dusty floor with no form of medical attention, the wound would probably scar awfully.

For a few moments, Yuffie closed off her thoughts as she attempted to gain a sense of her surroundings. It was quiet, she realized; definitely too quiet. The room was probably soundproof which was never a good sign. For the life of her, Yuffie couldn't think of one good thing that happened in a soundproof room.

"Can this joke _get_ any worse? I mean, really… I hope one of you stupid Higher Powers are getting one heck of a kick out of this, cause I'm sure not," Yuffie snarled bitterly to the room at large. Her only response was the sudden rocking of the room itself…

If anyone were to look in on this room at this point, they would have seen a petite Wutaian girl, somewhat the worse for wear sink her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking. One might also have surmised from her actions, as the room was soundproof – a curious anomaly for an apparently humble structure such as this – that she was crying. But she was laughing, albeit a little bitterly. "Brilliant. Just brilliant."

Somehow, Yuffie managed to speak between her peals of panicked laughter as she straightened, ticking off a finger with increasing vehemence for every sentence that crossed her bruised lips.

"I had to baby-sit Reno. Leviathan is missing, thanks to that slimeball _ex-_Turk – Godo's gonna kill me when he finds out. I've been hit on by more disgusting guys in twenty four hours than I usually have to deal with in a month. My shoulder is bleeding, untreated, and quite likely dislocated. Some loony blond whose battle is with Reno has kidnapped me. Not Reno, me. Blast it, Red, I knew you were trouble, and you're not here, either… Perfect. And to top that off, now I'm on a fragging boat. Someone just kill me now and get it over with…"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Kisaragi. Much as it's a pity, you're far more valuable alive." Chuckling at how the girl's head spun around, an embarrassed blush darkening her cheeks, Ethan leant against the door casually. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything… may I come in?"

She only shrugged. "It's your boat."

"You're quite right… it _is,_ isn't it."

"There a reason that you're here, blondie? Come to torture me some more?"

"I have a name. Kindly do not tarnish your dubious heritage and upbringing further, and be civilized enough to use it." Looking scornfully down at the furious brunette, Ethan moved into the room to crouch beside her, lifting up her chin with one hand, and settling a small brown satchel onto the floor with the other. "_Look_ at me when I speak. I will not be ignored."

Continuing to do exactly that, Yuffie averted her eyes from Ethan's, and shrugged her shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance – only hissing back the yelp of pain that crossed her lips once she moved her shoulder. "You just were. Deal."

"Foolish bravery will get you nowhere with me, little girl. I've seen more than my share of that, and it doesn't impress me in the slightest…"

As she shifted her eyes to meet his, the ninja smirked faintly. "Then I don't see what the problem is."

In a dangerously even tone, Ethan replied. "Problem, Miss Kisaragi?"

"Look," Yuffie started, using her uninjured arm to help her stand. "You obviously don't like me, I can't stand you, and we both know what I think of boats in general. I'm of no use to you, so you might as well let me go back to Wutai…"

"…And to your precious young redhead?" With a smirk to match hers, Ethan interceded, chuckling audibly at Yuffie's clenched fists and fiery blush. It was silent for a moment, but Yuffie shook her head angrily and continued.

"No. He's hardly mine, blondie." Disregarding his wince at her use of the nickname, she continued. "So if you're hoping to use me against him, you'd better think again, cause the last thing Reno's gonna do is chase you across the Planet for _me._ You shoulda figured that one out by now; sounded like you two had a bit of a history…"

"In a matter of speaking, perhaps we did. But, let sleeping dogs lie, Miss Kisaragi… although I've heard in your culture, you _eat_ them."

Yuffie squeaked.

She then paled, balled her fists at her sides, and narrowed her eyes at the unbearably amused young man standing across from her. "_Tell_ me you did not just say what you just did…"

A cool smile spread across Ethan's lips as he pretended to ponder Yuffie's request. "No," he replied. "Don't think I will." Dodging the left punch that Yuffie sent in retaliation, Ethan shuffled quickly to his left to grab her right fist before she could extend it fully. "Stupid girl," he scolded. "Are you trying to make your wound worse? I can just leave it to you, if you wish…"

"Why do _you_ care?" Yuffie snarled.

"You must, somehow, be made presentable, and for reasons that the Planet only knows, _this,"_ he sneered, "falls to me. I can't be bringing you broken and bleeding to Junon's gates, after all. People would talk something fierce." As he finished, Ethan retrieved the brown satchel, opening it to reveal a field healer's kit. No Materia, Yuffie noted with a sigh. Pity. But at least the rest of it looked well stocked.

"Give me your arm."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Your arm, girl. So I can bandage it." With the air of someone severely taxed, Ethan replied. At Yuffie's poisonous glare – the only reaction the petite girl gave to his words – he sighed. "It's your choice; I can heal your shoulder somewhat and give you something for protecting against poison, or you can leave it exposed to the elements…"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"Of course not, you silly girl."

"Just my luck," Yuffie grumbled. But she offered her arm, wincing only when the ointment rubbed over her wound, and did not pull away until the blond neatly snipped and fastened the ends of the fabric bandage. He did a decent job of it, Yuffie noted, which struck her as the slightest bit odd. Usually, one did not beat the heck out of someone and then bandage them up at the next opportunity. Still, the shinobi girl decided to take his kindness while it lasted…

"Everything satisfactory, Miss Kisaragi?" Rising coolly from her side, Ethan addressed the supine girl.

Rolling her shoulder slightly - as much as the new binding would allow – Yuffie looked up at him. "Er, yeah," she began. "Ya know, I'd thank you, I think… but there's gotta be some rule against thanking your captor."

Ethan couldn't help but chuckle dryly at her words. "I wouldn't be surprised, although I never took Hostage 101, myself…"

Despite herself, Yuffie gaped up at him. 'He didn't just made a joke, did he,' she thought distractedly. 'He seems almost as likely as, well… Vinnie… to do somethin' like that...'

"Miss Kisaragi?" Ethan asked from where he had walked to the door. "Kindly close your jaw… I've heard that insects might consider it a landing bay if you retain such a position for too long."

Glaring at the blond out of habit, Yuffie snapped her mouth shut, but even she could feel that the heat behind her glare had dissipated somewhat. 'Not good,' she thought as this realization struck her. 'Not good at all. Next, I'm gonna be asking him to stay here with me cause I'm afraid of boats…'

However, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of locks slipping into place. Yuffie raised her eyes to the door, surprised. No _way_ had she heard what she thought she did.

Every type of lock, Yuffie knew, made a distinct sound when it closed: the metallic snicks of deadbolts, the blips and beeps of electronic locks, and the soft clanking of chain bolts, for example. And for all that it appeared that her door was secured by an impressive set of electronic locks – the variety that she had had the most experience with, but liked least, and _certainly_ couldn't break out of with the set of files in her small lockpick kit which mysteriously had been left on her person – the sound that she picked up on as the blond shut the door behind him was distinctly that of two separate deadbolts.

"Touché," Yuffie murmured as she moved to the door, plastic file at the ready. "You almost had me fooled… but this is gonna be child's play." Eyes narrowed in concentration, she slipped the file carefully between the door and the wall, briefly smiling in triumph as the door creaked open.

'You gotta do better than that to keep me in,' Yuffie crowed silently, slipping the file back into the liner of her jacket and stepping outside. Ah… freedom. But her thoughts were interrupted by a cough to her right, and Yuffie groaned as she realized that she was not as free as she would have liked to believe…

"Not bad, my dear…" Exchanging his glance between her and his watch, Ethan smiled smoothly from where he leaned against the wall. "But for a 'legendary' Kisaragi, I really expected faster."

Yuffie winced. "Of fragging _course…_ you don't give up, do you?"

"And you do, Princess?"

"Thought I told you not to call me that, blondie…"

She was really starting to get on his nerves. "The name," he said curtly, "is Ethan. Do use it…"

"Sounds Midgarian," Yuffie mused out loud. "Let me guess… born to the aristo class above the Plate, Junon education, holidays in Costa… A regular silver-spoon brat."

"Not bad," Ethan replied evenly. "It takes one to know one, does it not?"

Ignoring her seething response, he continued. "As pleasant as talking with you has been, all good things must come to an end." Flicking his left hand up to display the gun loosely clasped within it, he smiled coldly. "Now, you're going to be a good girl, and go back into that room until we get to where we're going. And don't even _think_ of running away – we are on a boat, as you so cleverly assessed earlier – so running is futile, my dear Wutaian girl."

Wincing, Yuffie sunk her head into one of her hands. "Did someone teach you how to talk like that, or are you just a bastard naturally?"

"The latter, I assure you." He gestured towards the door with his gun, and then back at her. "_Now,_ Miss Kisaragi."

"Nah," Yuffie retorted, taking a step backwards from where Ethan stood. "Don't think I will. 'Sides, you can't kill me, and you know it." Stifling a feigned yawn as she continued to retreat, Yuffie looked up at Ethan, who regarded her in return with a cold stare. "I'm way too important; Godo'll be after your sorry arse seconds after I hit the floor. And I've got friends in lots of other important places, too. Kill me, and I dunno if they'll be as kind to you in return."

"How could I forget," he replied, moving to close the distance between them. "Your dear friends in AVALANCHE… and if that was indeed Reno of the Turks, it appears that your little groups have declared a truce of sorts. What, have they decided to sacrifice the virgin to the wolf as a peace treaty? Though…"

Ethan paused to look critically at Yuffie's mussed hair and lean figure, the latter starting to blossom with bruises from their fight the day before. His voice dripped with scorn when he continued. "…it doesn't really seem like your Reno is really receiving that much of a prize."

Eyes glinting, Yuffie decided that she would simply claim justifiable homicide to explain the actions that she felt would no doubt transpire from this confrontation. She smirked softly – 'self-defense from psychopathic blonds' had a nice ring to it.

'That is,' Yuffie noted, 'that's if and when this cretin's decomposed body is ever discovered.' Which, all things considered, the petite shinobi doubted would happen, especially if she was quick with it and dumped him overboard. But, if worse came to worse, Reeve could probably find her a good lawyer…

"And slow-witted, too? Perhaps you were right - I wonder why I bothered with you, little one. It seems that the fish would be better company for the likes of you; they stare about stupidly as much as you do…"

A particularly rough wave seemed to choose that moment to hit the small boat, effectively silencing the blond as a Yuffie-shaped blur half-flew into his chest.

Hitting the wall moments later, and using his free arm to brace against it, Ethan grunted as he realized that the girl had used the sudden movement of the ship to barrel two small but painful fists into him – one into his chest, the other against his right arm – this time, before he could react to it. So she was smarter than she looked; that left punch had gone almost directly over where she had hit previously. It wasn't broken, but he'd certainly have bruises on top of bruises in a day or two.

He felt her jump off of him – somehow, they had fallen to the floor in the aftermath; the storm he had seen earlier in the East must be directly over them now, Ethan mused.

Yuffie, however, used her opponent's preoccupation to jump away from where they had landed in an unceremonious pile of limbs and begin her dash down the hallway. Quickly, she pulled herself into a stop as she almost collided with the wooden door at the end of the corridor, and though she pushed and pulled at it with increasing desperation, an unfortunately familiar voice called to her tauntingly from not too far away.

"It's locked, little girl… And I hold the key."

The door wasn't locked, Yuffie thought to herself, just _stubborn._ All it needed was a little 'persuasion' - a few of the boards were weathered, and looked narrow enough to kick through, if she still had the space to do so… Backing up a little, Yuffie turned, stuck her tongue out at the approaching Ethan, and turned again. As the knife-edge of her foot hit the door, cracks emerged towards the middle of it. Switching her stance, Yuffie attacked the door again. More fool they who didn't build doors correctly; this was little more than a bunch of planks nailed together vertically.

The shinobi girl couldn't help but smirk after her second assault on the door. Now, it was even less than that; the two center planks had yielded enough for her to get through.

Praising the deities that had gifted her with a slight build – perhaps for the first time in her life – Yuffie slipped through the gap in the boards. Her jacket snagged on a cluster of the splinters, catching her, but she shrugged out of it, leaving it to hang, abandoned from the conspicuous hole in the middle of the door. Without looking back, she stepped onto the deck of the boat. The absolutely barren, uncomfortably small, and pathetically inescapable deck.

"Dammit," Yuffie murmured. "He was right." But her words were cut off with a high-pitched, pained gasp that she realized belatedly came from her own body. Pain blossomed in her lower back, and then spread as she felt something foreign, numbing, and completely unwanted rush through her bloodstream. Shuddering in pain, she started to run away, but the almost surreal, sickly green bubbles that enveloped her hampered her movements. High-level Poison attack, Yuffie realized. She'd be downed in minutes… which was, all things considered, a little ironic, because she had more than mild suspicions that the materia that did this to her was hers, in _his_ hands…

Ethan's steps as he emerged from the door were cool, calm, and absolutely measured; the master of the situation. Holding his gun in one hand, and a familiar gauntlet in the other, he strode over to her, still keeping a distance of a few feet between them.

Refusing to give into the poison's seductive lull, Yuffie inched backwards, adrenaline giving her energy that she did not know she possessed.

"It's a pity I have to do this," Ethan told her, cocking the barrel of his gun. "You had so much potential, Miss Kisaragi."

"As what," she spat, rebellious even as the second, stronger pulse of the poison drove her halfway to her knees. "A fragging _ransom_ payment? I'll pass, thanks…"

He disregarded her last words, now raising the weapon. "Among other things. I _tried_ to give you the benefit of the doubt, you know. You fought well, for a shinobi – I respected that. Sabrina's 'help' was unexpected, but I allowed you to live… But you just cannot let sleeping dogs lie, can you?"

"Nah…" she replied, the effects of the poison making her words low and gasping. "More… fun… this way." Hugging her sides as the toxins danced through her bloodstream, Yuffie's head bowed at last. It wasn't how _she_ wanted to die; barely nineteen, practically alone, and on a boat of all things… But Fate was a royal pain in the arse, so…

It was then that Yuffie noticed it. About halfway up her left arm, a small red light pulsed. 'Must… be… hallucinating,' she thought. 'An effect of the poison. I'm not the cyborg – Barret and Vinnie might have flashy red lights shining out of their arms, _but_ _I don't_…' She closed her eyes, convinced that the illusion would fade after a few seconds.

Almost fearfully, Yuffie opened them again. Nothing had changed – Ethan had maybe moved a bit closer, but his expression was confident – no way that he'd noticed her new 'accessory.' It hadn't gone anywhere, unfortunately… But as Yuffie looked down at it, pretending to be more weakened by the poison than she was, the whispers of a past conversation slipped into her subconscious…

_"…Get. . .Your. . . Hands. . . Off. . . Of. . . Me. . ." Yuffie hissed, eyes slightly dilated but still enraged_.

_Feeling the comfortingly cool metal of his nightstick at his fingertips, Reno smiled. "Works for me, Princess. . ." Leaning into her slightly, he grabbed the weapon and twisted it successfully out of her hand, bending to briefly, mockingly brush his lips against hers. _

_"Game. Set. Match. I think I've won. . ." he whispered, almost against her lips. "I'll just be going now, then. . ." _

_But he missed the surprised smile on her face that quickly turned calculating, as well as the movement of the hand that had been holding his nightstick, which casually flicked a small red orb up her sleeve.  
_

As pathetic as it was, it all made sense now, Yuffie realized. She had placed Reno's materia in the left sleeve of her jacket, right below the elbow. The globelike light pulsed from the same place. 'Course,' she mused, 'there's always the question of how the stupid thing got through a layer of fabric, and, oh, my _skin…_ eww…'

"If you're quite done, Miss Kisaragi…" Ethan's voice – and the unmistakable chill of a gun barrel placed against her forehead – cut off that particular line of thoughts. "As disgustingly clichéd as it is," he continued, "do you have any last words?"

This time, her smile matched his; eerily cold. "Just one… _burn_."

His laughter reached her ears, although it seemed somewhat distorted by the adrenaline and toxins running through her head. "Of all the things you could have said… 'burn?' Why in Planet's name would you be so terribly trite?"

Gritting her teeth, she braced her right hand over the Materia embedded in her arm. 'Please, please let this work…' Shifting her head to look up at Ethan – the gun barrel falling away from her head as she did so – Yuffie realized that this, quite probably, was her only chance.

'Here goes nothing…' she thought, calling upon Bahamut with every shred of her being. It had to work. It _had _to.

Leveling her eyes with his, she replied to his question. "The situation… seemed fitting." Catching her breath, she continued. "Hope… you enjoy this as much as I will…"

He cocked an eyebrow at her nonchalance, but before Ethan could raise his gun, viciously loud rumbling noises erupted from all around them, and the blond gunman froze.

"No…" he uttered, as the head and the tips of wings that could only belong to a dragon emerged from the sea on their port side, and the summoned beast continued to rise. "It… you… can't be! I checked you _myself._"

"Bully for you," she hissed in reply. "Ya didn't do… too good a job."

'It… worked… Leviathan only knows _how…_ but it _worked!_' Yuffie realized through the haze that the poison had cast over her senses. She smiled triumphantly as she noted Ethan was apparently absolutely frozen to the spot. She doubted she'd survive long enough to make it to shore… wherever shore was… but at least she would be able to take the snooty, insufferable, arrogant 'ninja' wannabe down with her.

"Didn't expect _that¸_ now did you?" she called, her voice barely more than a whisper.

But he heard it. And for the first time in a _very_ long time, Ethan Ypres was truly afraid…

As the gargantuan sentinel fully winged his way into presence, wings unfurling and almost taking out the small mast of the ship as they did so, Yuffie's mind and body –rebellious though they were – finally obeyed the unwritten directions that all Princesses must follow when presented with a dragon in close proximity.

She fainted.

And that's when things got _really _interesting…

.

…TBC…

* * *

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Final Fantasy VII belong to Square/ Square Enix/ Squaresoft. Worse than Prince at keeping a name for more than a few years, those people. But we love them anyways.

As an aside - I've realized (belatedly, and as I read more FF8 fanfic) that my 'system' for Materia that will develop over the rest of the story is somewhat similar to FF8's GF system. (Which annoys me to no end, because I've never played the game. Here I had figured I'd made something unique… and it still is; any similarity is coincidental, cause I'm not really sure how Guardian Forces _work.)_ There will be significant differences, but there also will be similarities.

I apologize for any confusion the above paragraph may have caused.

SABRIEL'S SCRIBBLES: Well, another one down. I apologize for the semi-cliffhanger… this chapter was supposed to end later, but now that I know where things are going, updates, with any luck, will be more forthcoming. Next chapter will have more action, I promise - this _was_ dialogue heavy, but there's a reason for it, I swear. And I'll have to come up with a new system to display flashbacks, thanks to FF.n's new "QuickEdit"... (curses...)

Thank you, as always, for reading. To _Lallie_ (I'll convert you yet…), _Brieali, Ktrenal, and Tijuana Pirate_ (you two rock – you're picking up on all of my hints! Yes, Ethan's collecting the Materia for someone, but the who and why will come with time…) - thanks for reviewing the last chapter!

Peace, Starry Nights… and, should the mood move you, the review box is just down and to the left.


	6. The Art of an Exit

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Six**: The Art of an Exit

* * *

Ethan Ypres was _not_ having a good day.

Although he was better at masking it, he liked nautical travel about as much as the girl who had just collapsed at his feet – but not before calling into the battleground a winged behemoth as her champion. Worse yet, the winged behemoth in question had an uncomfortably hungry glint in its eyes... and if there was a more humiliating fate than being defeated by a summoned monster, it had to be being killed and then _eaten_ by one. Yet, Bahamut wasn't attacking.

If he didn't know better, the blond thought frantically, calling in energy to generate his Arctic Shield defense, he would almost say that the lack of a conscious mind to guide the dragon was the cause of its hesitation.

It made sense, actually. In his research with Phoenixia, he had learned that all Summons, save perhaps the Phoenix, required a present, sentient human consciousness to 'steer them in the right direction.' Fortunately, this lack thereof was looking like it would work in his favor. Without Yuffie's guidance, the Bahamut continued to circle menacingly – but harmlessly – above him. With this realization, Ethan let out a breath of relief, and quietly took a step towards the small motorboat strapped to the starboard stern of the boat.

With any luck, he'd be able to use the Summon's weakness – a relatively poor sense of sight – to his advantage, along with the quickly falling darkness. Unfortunately, to make up for that weakness, all of the Bahamut summons had almost unbelievable senses of smell and hearing. He couldn't do much about the smell, Ethan thought to himself, but if he was very, _very_ quiet...

However, fate decided to thumb its nose at him right then. Halfway through his third step backwards, the communication device strapped on his hip came to life, buzzing in a high pitch that he had always hated. Almost missing his step in surprise, Ethan slammed down on the comm button and hissed lowly, "Not _now_, you ignorant sap of a girl!"

Fortunately, Sabrina seemed to listen – for the moment – and no further noise was issued.

Unfortunately, as the Summoned dragon wheeled suddenly about, eyes glittering dangerously down at where he stood on the deck, it became clear that he was not the only one that held that particular opinion about his communication system. Suspiciously, Ethan's eyes flew to the collapsed shinobi girl, still engulfed by the green miasma of the Bio spell. She _could_ be regaining consciousness, explaining the Bahamut's increased awareness of its surroundings.

Just then, a snore issued itself from between Yuffie's slightly parted lips.

"_Unbelievable_." Ethan murmured. "How in Shiva's name can she sleep at a time like this? It must be residual from Sabrina's crossbow wound. Mixed with the poison... why, Miss Kisaragi, if you manage to survive this, you are going to have the planet's worst headache." He chuckled. "It's suitable, my dear. You most certainly _are_ the world's worst headache."

It was then that Ethan remembered that he was going to kill her. Unbidden, a twinge of guilt dashed across his mind as Yuffie twitched in her mockery of sleep, the ninja's skin starting to turn an unhealthily pale hue. The vestiges of honour that he still held clamored for her to have a more merciful death. He could leave that blasted Turk to rot in this situation without so much as a backwards glance, but, Ethan realized, this was not Reno who was collapsed before him.

Instead, the weakened figure on the ship's deck was little more than a scrap of a girl, although she was also a Wutaian princess and Heir, no less... although this method _did_ hold a spark of delicious irony, Ethan laughed softly, loading a Heal Materia into his handgun. She had been at least a foe that had fought fairly, and deserved a little more than the sensational death that presently seemed her fate.

Even **if** '_...the infamous Wutaian Materia renegade-princess, found slain by one of her own Materia..._' had a certain ring to it, and one that he was sure that the hellhounds of the media would take up immediately. This was not the time or the place to test that theory. The chaos it would cause worldwide was more trouble than he – _they_ needed at the moment - especially all for the death of one little girl.

"You owe me, Miss Kisaragi." Blue eyes narrowed. "Though, Shiva knows, I'm not doing this for _you_." Leveling the gun at her prone figure, he released the Esuna spell, which dissipated the noxious green haze surrounding her on contact.

"You're getting soft, Ypres," Ethan cursed. But his eyes widened, and he hit the deck immediately as his attention was caught forcibly by a rapidly descending – and rather irate – dragon. Obviously, pointing weapons at the Summon's owner (no matter the intent) was Not A Good Idea... Perhaps Yuffie's lack of consciousness prevented Bahamut from unleashing its undeniably deadly Flare attack, but that didn't mean that it wasn't dangerous independently.

_Oh_ no. As talons that had to be roughly five feet long and far sharper than those pesky shuriken the shinobi girl carried grasped at the sky bare inches above him, Ethan shuddered. _That_ was far too close for comfort. Far too close for anything, really, he realized, as this time the ship's mast _did_ break in half after being struck by the dragon's wing and tail in quick succession as it flailed to recover from its dive. As the Summon took to the skies once again, keening angrily, Ethan reached forward and grabbed the comatose Yuffie by her collar, intending to drag her along with him. It might have _looked_ as if that massive chunk of wood and steel was falling in slow motion, but if he didn't move, they'd be as squashed to death in seconds.

But as the saying went, sometimes even the very best of intentions could go horribly wrong, and so several things conspired to happen at once to require a change in plans.

For one, Ethan's fingers slipped in his surprise while changing his grip on Yuffie's shirt to push the girl away from the middle of the ship. Unfortunately, the combined effort of his push and the surprisingly sudden halving of the ship's deck caused Yuffie's slight form to be catapulted over the railings at the boat's edge despite its increased elevation.

Fortunately for the girl, the Bahamut Summon obviously seemed to know that its existence was connected to her, and almost before Ethan could comprehend what his eyes were witnessing, the mighty dragon dropped again from the sky, catching Yuffie in its talons moments before she hit the waves below.

Stabilizing its wings, the Bahamut screeched indignantly at Ethan and fixed its rather inscrutable gaze at him for what seemed like a short eternity before offering a smug dragonish grin – _just you try to get out of **this**,_ it seemed to smirk - and taking off in the general direction of Junon.

And _this_ was not a pleasant situation. He was in a sinking boat that was miles off the shore of anywhere, and where in Shiva's name was all the other boat traffic that supposedly always traveled this route? Noting a floating set of planks not far beneath him, Ethan carefully scaled down his 'half' of the boat, which was almost at a vertical angle by now. _I am **not** paid enough to do this_, Ethan mused angrily. Just a little farther... _there._ The Arctic Shield defense that he had originally intended to use to form an ice wall to protect himself would work nicely on those planks – the _Junon Star_, it wasn't, but with any luck, the makeshift raft would hold.

Easing carefully from the sinking boat onto the raft, Ethan ducked to evade a piece of flying plywood, swearing colorfully as it glanced off his shoulder. Using another plank as a makeshift paddle, he steered his way out from between the halves of the boat onto open water. _One disaster evaded_, he cursed mentally, '_only to fall right into another. Night's falling, and if I recall correctly, these waters have never been safe after dark._

It didn't help matters that seconds later Sabrina's anxious voice filtered through the communications device. "Ethan? _ETHAN?_ What in the Planet's name is going on? Are you _there?_ Answer me, damn it! Ethan!"

"Kindly _shut up, _woman!" Furious and starting to feel the chill from the ice that bound his raft together, Ethan took his anger out on the girl on the other end of the line. "_Now_ is not the time, either, and unless you can charter a helicopter to somewhere in this Shiva-forsaken sea, you're useless to me at the moment." He smirked. He felt better already. "I'll contact you when I'm in Junon. Maintain your position, and for the sake of all that's holy, make sure you hold onto that Turk."

Ignoring her response, he resisted the urge to stomp in a rather juvenile matter on the modified PHS until it was unquestionably destroyed. "I don't _care_ if he's sleeping or not, Sabrina. He's a Turk, and whether he's 'retired' as he says or not he's still one of the most dangerous men that you'll come across these days. Reno'd rather shoot you than look at you, so make sure, for _damn_ sure, that he _can not escape. _That is all." Decisively, Ethan slammed down the red button that ended his contact with Sabrina.

Reno was probably as good as gone by now... but she was the best that he had had at the moment, and regrets were just a waste of time. He would deal with the Turk when he got to shore.

Teetering carefully on the makeshift raft – which was nowhere near as large nor as stable as he would have liked – he spared a glance for the Summon, who was now winging towards Junon, an unconscious Yuffie Kisaragi wrapped carefully by its claws. The dragon didn't look like it was about to turn around, despite his outburst; obviously, he was no longer deemed a threat. Just as well; he wasn't much of an opponent on a fairly large fishing boat, so Ethan didn't want to imagine the results if the dragon returned and all he had to stand on was this raft of planks secured by ice.

Resigning himself to his fate – and the taunting that such a failure would ensure – Ethan carefully dialed a number into his communications device. "Ypres here." He waited for the receptionist to transfer his call, then chuckled wryly as a familiar voice answered. "Lund? I need a helicopter, quickly. You're going to fall of your chair when you find out where I am."

_. o ._

Reno awoke to a splitting headache, which wasn't all that strange, the past day considered. He _could_ recall getting solidly inebriated and getting pulled around subsequently by the ninja girl with the legs... Everything else was, unfortunately, pretty much a blur after that.

This didn't really matter, but he would have liked to remember what transpired in order to have landed in the situation he woke up in: an unfamiliar female voice was screeching into a PHS somewhere nearby, and he was bound by his wrists and ankles to the chair he found himself upon. To further the cliché, Reno smirked as he noted that he was tied down with _rope._ Whoever this girl was, she'd read one too many mystery novels and too few news reports, though it did make things easier for him.

Resisting the urge to chuckle, he tested the bonds, green eyes sweeping the room methodically. The rope held; the girl at least knew how to tie a knot or two, and apparently was wise or foolish enough to remove his weapons and Materia from both his person and his sight. However, if the brunette's capacity to find imaginative places to cache weaponry was as creative as the comments she was making, his nightstick and armband couldn't be far. The small door at the back of the room looked like a closet; he'd almost bet they were in there.

To top it off, he recognized the voice on the other end of the PHS. It was, undeniably, that uppity Junon bastard who was the bigger threat of the two. And from the sound of it, he wasn't here. _Mind you_, Reno mused, _it doesn't really sound like he's _there_, either, from the way she's hollering his name like that..._

Just then, a very clear and _very_ stressed "SHUT UP!" burst over the speaker. Twitching with laughter and a little bit of pain, as the shouting was just doing wonders for his headache, Reno leaned closer. _This_ certainly promised to be entertaining. Informative, at the very least.

Of course, there was the minor issue of his being tied to a piece of furniture. And the unfortunately well-loved crossbow held in the crook of his captor's left arm as she paced distractedly, while hollering loudly at her unfortunate quarry through a PHS system held in her right hand, complicated matters slightly. Naturally, this posed a bit of a problem, but even as he was, Reno was hardly defenseless.

He hadn't survived to become one of the last Turks without having something to show for it; the loon who managed the Science Department had left him with a lasting gift that had almost killed the young redhead at the time of its bestowal, but was something that Reno had to admit had saved him before. If he surprised Sabrina, Reno decided, it would still take time for her to drop the PHS, adjust her crossbow to a moving target, and fire. Sleep-tinged bolts or not, he was pretty certain he could dodge enough of them to get to the rows of file desks on the far side of the room, which would provide adequate cover and time to launch a second attack if necessary.

Eyes closing briefly in concentration, Reno brought the dormant electricity in his blood – Hojo's errant gift – to pool around his ankles and wrists. Unfortunately, the sparking that this caused seemed to catch Sabrina's attention, and she spun around, blue eyes narrowed dangerously.

As her eyes met his, Reno shrugged. So much for the element of surprise.

But it wasn't a total loss; he merely had to move faster now. "Do you enjoy sounding like a broken record," he quipped, releasing a short jolt of electricity, "or is that just a woman thing?"

The ropes that had tied him down sizzled briefly before flopping uselessly against the chair. Mockingly saluting the shocked girl, who was only now steadying her weapon, Reno got up and began to dash for the far side of the room...

However, his flight came to a sudden halt as a crossbow bolt thudded solidly into the wall _just_ in front of his nose.

"I might be a broken record," Sabrina spat, notching another bolt to her crossbow, "but at least I can still play. You're hardly at the top of your game, _Turk." _Eyes flashing angrily, she accosted the infuriated Reno, who obviously wasn't used to coming that close to a complimentary nose job on a regular basis. "Can't you just stand still for two seconds," she asked, as he nonchalantly ducked under the bolt and continued towards the far door almost immediately.

"Hardly," he retorted lazily, pausing in his step. "Don't want to make it _too_ easy for you, now!" But inside, Reno's mind was flying. _Just a little longer, just a little more..._ He frankly hadn't expected her to have the aim or the speed that she did. But a few moments more, another scrap of energy captured, and it wouldn't matter.

"Wouldn't you say you already are making it too easy, Turk? I could have killed you with that shot."

Green eyes turned slowly to examine blue at those words. "That's the difference between you and I. You could have. I _would_ have. But here, a piece of free advice – if not-quite-killing Turks is your ambition, girl, I suggest you find a new one. _Do_ you have a suicide wish, or are you simply crazy like the rest of those Midgarians?" He couldn't help but chuckle at the look of shock that spread across Sabrina's face at his words. "You didn't think I knew?"

"It's been a while," she admitted immediately. "What's it matter to you, Turk?"

"It doesn't," Reno replied callously. "You're just a backstabbing bitch in my mind; Yuffie was your friend, if I recall her annoying banter correctly. And you shot her in the back for some icy blond who doesn't give a damn about you. _Real_ smart... but I guess for a Honeybee girl, they don't want you too brilliant."

At this, Sabrina's cheeks flared, nearly matching Reno's hair in hue at his accusatory words. Trying to maintain an air of nonchalance and failing miserably, her infuriated silence only amused Reno further.

Chuckling, he taunted her further. "I'm sure the folks back here in Wutai don't know about _that_, do they? It's all in the way you stand; shoulders back, eyes fluttering, stance confident, but not too much so. Green eyes flickered over the stunned Sabrina as he spoke. "Yep. The 'strong-sexy, but delicate.' Only met one woman who could stand like that and wasn't a whore, and she ended up saving the world."

Sabrina laughed at his admission once she figured out the allusion. "Part of the Tifa Lockheart fan club, Turk?_ Hardly_ surprising; I've heard your kind has a weakness for what they can't have."

Surprised, Reno took a step back. "Should have seen _that_ coming. Touché, Honeybee. But while Lockheart's a classy lady, she's not exactly my type."

An amused snort was all the response that Sabrina offered.

She wondered, faintly, why neither she nor Reno had the presence of mind to run for assistance – or freedom – or attempt to more permanently silence the other. It seemed the Turk had something up his sleeve – not figuratively, as she had checked and removed the only suspicious item, a high-tech watch, now carefully broken and residing in her pants pocket. But if what Ethan said was true, and Reno was as dangerous as he said, time spent arguing with him was time away from time spent where he would be trying to kill her. So for the moment, talking was good.

"You mock," Reno murmured lowly. "Dangerous ground, Honeybee. You don't believe me?"

"From what I've heard of you, no," Sabrina retorted. "Tifa Lockheart is both breathing and female; last I heard, those were your requirements."

Reno smirked. Foolish girl - she seemed to think that he was happy trading retorts with her. More the fool, she left him unbound. "I'm a little more selective than that, I'd like to think...You're not bad at getting under people's skin, girl. But," and here he grinned devilishly, focusing the electricity under his palms before launching it at the unsuspecting brunette. "I'm better."

At his words, Sabrina found herself encased in a deceptively delicate-looking pyramid of light. _Electric_ light, she found, as her contact with the surface rebuffed her hand with a couple of painful sparks. _That smirk_, Sabrina cursed mentally. I_'d wipe it right off, but whatever the heck this is doesn't look like it will let me do anything._

Reno's mocking wave knocked her right out of her musings. "I'm out – Sabrina, was it, Honeybee? Yes? Tell that blond bastard you're working for to watch his back and keep his nose out of what doesn't concern him. And that's me and mine."

Pointedly ignoring her accusatory query as to whether 'mine' included the shinobi girl he was intending to pursue – Yuffie merely had something of his, and that was all there was to it - Reno moved to and opened the small door on the south wall of the room. Picking up his nightstick and armlet, he checked for the Materia he had equipped, and allowed a small smile.

Which faded immediately as he noted the unusually purplish tinge of one of his All materias. Reno's eyes became little more than slits as he picked up on the girl's surprised gasp; apparently, he was supposed to miss that. "I wasn't a Turk for nothing," Reno muttered. "Even _I _don't slack enough to miss something this blatant." Twisting the blue materia out of its casing, he casually demolished the small red tracking bug that had caught his eye and altered the hue of the materia.

"I _was_ going to leave, you know. The Pyramid would have worn off in, oh, three hours." With a predatory glint in his smile, Reno strode up to the imprisoned Sabrina. "But there has been a little change in plans. I don't know where you got your information on Turks, but we don't take kindly to being tracked, either. _I'd_ deal with you if I had the time, but I've a Yuffie to go bug the hell out of, so I think I'll have to give Rude a shout..."

It was then that Reno realized that his watch was no longer around his wrist. "...You little _bitch,"_ he cursed. "What in Hades' name did you do to my watch?"

With a smile that would have done any canary-eating cat proud, Sabrina placed her crossbow on the ground, removed Reno's mangled watch from her pocket, and dangled it from one finger. "Oooops," she taunted from inside the golden barrier. "Did I break your precious little toy?"

Taking a deep breath at her words... oh, he'd gladly strangle the bitch if he could, but it was hardly the best choice, Reno shrugged. The watch wasn't the only way that he could get in contact with Rude and Elena, just the most convenient option. Still, he wasn't about to leave without it...

Regretfully, a jolt of electricity from his nightstick ended Sabrina's imprisonment, and Reno moved immediately to kick Sabrina's crossbow away from her and keep the business end of his weapon aimed directly at her temple. All traces of playfulness drained from his voice and eyes as he instructed, "don't move so much as a muscle. I _will_ kill you, Honeybee."

Breaking the wires in the crossbow under his heel, Reno gestured for Sabrina to move to the chair that he had been tied to moments before. "To the chair. Sit. Place the watch on the ground, and kick it towards me." He smiled as she placed it on the ground, but the smile shrank as Sabrina swung back her foot to nail the watch. A rain of bluish sparks emitted from the end of Reno's weapon scattered across the room to spark against the girl's skin. This slowed her foot's descent, and Sabrina grimaced. "_Gently,_ Honeybee. You've already pissed me off enough today."

The cocky smile re-emerged as she complied sulkily, and, without taking his eyes or the point of his nightstick off of her, Reno bent to place the watch in his pants pocket. Taking out a pair of handcuffs – where had _those_ been when she had searched him, Sabrina wondered – he fastened one loop to the chair back, and the other to her right wrist.

A grin and a mocking salute were his only tokens of farewell, but right before Reno went to open the door, he paused. "I'd almost forgotten," he murmured, turning slowly. A familiar rush of light blinked into existence, and Sabrina found herself trapped in another Pyramid.

"Ciao," Reno grinned, spinning nonchalantly on his heel, and whistling carelessly as he left the room. Save the almost-nose-job, that had been easy enough. He'd have to get the watch fixed without letting Reeve or Rude or Elena know that he had broken it... but... _details, _Reno scoffed. Mere details.

Now to find – and deal with – an equally annoying shinobi...

_. o ._

Meanwhile, in a small house in a small, wintry town, a woman pushed back the quilt that had covered her sleeping form, and, slipping to the window, frowned as she witnessed a sight she knew all too well.

It seemed he couldn't sleep either, his brown boots becoming caked with snow as he trudged towards the north side of the city, sword strapped to his back and snowboard in his arms.

She couldn't explain... she didn't really want to think about how she was able to sense him every single time he left. They shared neither bed nor house; they didn't share much, Tifa noted bitterly, as silver sword and golden spikes disappeared into the snowstorm. Just a handful of memories that both, deep down, wanted to forget, just a past life that refused to let either of them go.

He was gone, again. And she'd learned not to chase after him; he knew his way, and he always found the path back. Cloud was funny that way. He'd hunt down his demons and visit his angel, and when he was done, he'd return to reality. In the beginning, she'd thought that he returned to _her._ But while Tifa had been called naïve and romantic, and she accepted both charges, she still wasn't blind. Even she realized that after a year of these waking dreams, she was only fooling herself.

Not even expending the energy to sigh at his departure, she turned from the window and picked up a small, cream-coloured paper from her bedside table. Chuckling wryly at the deftly hand-sketched Festival tree in the corner of the letter, and the red-hatted Cait Sith sitting under it, claret eyes scanned the paper, crinkling upwards happily at a couple of the comments the writer had made. The almost childlike pride and hesitant charm of Reeve Vanh shone through in his words... it seemed as if the city he'd worked to rebuild; the dream that was Midgar was finally coming together, to be celebrated with the second annual Midwinter Festival. And he was inviting all of AVALANCHE back to celebrate.

A smile spread across Tifa's pretty features as she recalled her fellow adventurers; they were still in contact, although even she had to admit that their unusual company was too varied to promote anything more than a close camaraderie. Even so, it would be wonderful to see them all again, especially in this festive season.

The thought came unbidden. "Cloud, or no Cloud," Tifa told the empty room, "Midwinter's in eight days, and _I_ for one am going to go. Like he is so fond of saying, he is fine, he is _going_ to be fine, and he knows his way back." This time, she allowed herself a small sigh, looking out of the frosted window once before returning to her bed.

In the morning, it would be Tifa Lockhart's turn to run away.

_. o ._

_...to be continued..._

_. o ._

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** Ethan and Sabrina belong to me (and wonderful belongings they _are,_ aren't they?) but other than that, everything you recognize is Square's. Don't sue. I happen to like my car...

**SABRIEL'S SCRIBBLES: **It's _done! _(The chapter, that is.) And my apologies for the long wait in-between. I'd promise that it will never happen again, but it might. The next chapter, however, is half-written, so it won't be nearly as long in appearing. Thanks goes out to my reviewers and fellow writers; you know who you are, and your support and suggestions keep this story going. I owe you, and thank you _huge._


	7. Hero Worship

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Seven: **Hero Worship

* * *

Priscilla would never be quite sure what force pulled her down to Junon's beach, on a night eight days short of the Midwinter Festival. The ocean had fascinated her for as long as she could remember; perhaps it was because she'd always grown up at its edge, and knew the geography and fauna of the small, rocky shorelines like she knew the corners and nooks of her own house.

She'd always held an affinity for it; she was one of the best swimmers in Lower Junon, despite her age, even befriending a couple of the sociable dolphins that played in the Junon sea, training them to 'perform' with an old whistle that had belonged to her mother. But after her close brush three years ago with the aquatic monster that lurked just off the coast, her grandparents had been nearly militant in ensuring their only grand-daughter did not risk her life unnecessarily.

In her opinion, the event was little more than a blurrily-remembered adventure; no lasting harm had been done. She'd been saved at the time by a sparkly-eyed blond man, a pretty brunette, and a spunky young girl whose weapons had fascinated Priscilla. The little girl smiled as she remembered how she learned afterwards that the somewhat ragtag-looking trio were actual members of AVALANCHE – the handsome blond man was Cloud Strife himself, and she was the envy of her friends for _weeks_ afterwards when they learned how his "kiss" had brought her back to life.

So she would argue nonetheless… after the Heroes had defeated the Bottomswell, there hadn't been _that_ many dangers that she'd found herself thrown into… and definitely with nothing nearly so large as _it_ had been.

But her grandmother would be sure to interrupt her protests, tell her that "heroes can't always be around to save us common folk, 'Cilla," hand her a fresh-baked cookie, and send her up off to bed. At thirteen, this coddling seemed terribly childish, but try as she might, her grandparents somehow had _far_ better hearing than her friends' parents, so her visits to the beach decreased in frequency.

This night in particular, she was returning from a friend's house when _something_ pulled her attention to the steps down to the beach. Ever-impulsive, she turned from her path, pausing for a half-second at the top of the stairs. Gran would be mad if she went; it was only yesterday that she'd reminded Priscilla not to go to the beach alone _or_ after dark, whether she was carrying her khukri or not. 'But,' Priscilla reasoned, 'Gran also always says to follow your instincts, and mine are saying that there is definitely something down there…'

The more conservative of the logics reasoned away, Priscilla skipped down the stairs, brunette braids flying. As she reached the bottom of the steps, she realized her hunch had been correct – although it was someone, as opposed to something, that merited her concern. Someone, as it turned out, that she knew. Sort of.

Regardless, the prone form of Yuffie Kisaragi was easy to recognize, although she lacked her trademark oversized shuriken… and, as some would note with a trace of glee, was uncharacteristically quiet.

Despite Yuffie's silence, Priscilla had not been the only one to note her arrival. A couple of seaside monsters were moving in from the rocky crags just beyond the stairs, and their interest did not look as benign as her own. Sizing them up, Priscilla smiled as she realized that they were largely the young of that particular breed; no challenge, especially as she'd been training with her Grandpa quite a bit recently. Steadying the curved knife she carried, she moved in on the monsters.

A few stabs and feints later – a tentacle had caught her bicep, which was bleeding slightly, but she was intact otherwise – two of the monsters were dead, while another retreated to the cliffs.

Smiling as only the young and invincible can Priscilla judged the threat eliminated, and moved towards Yuffie, who was starting to regain consciousness.

Unfortunately, just as she reached the beached girl, a movement in her peripheral vision caught Priscilla's attention. _Darn._ It looked like the monster that had fled was bringing in the cavalry…

"Hey! Miss Kisaraggy! Ninja-girl, you've got to wake up! There's like, monsters, and stuff…" Shaking the older girl's shoulders, Priscilla cast a worried glance behind Yuffie. These ones looked like they might be a bit more of a challenge – if bigger and uglier were any measurements to go by.

The thought struck her then that she probably shouldn't have killed their babies. Or left that last one alive, Priscilla groaned, noting the smaller one splooshing along behind the rest, covered in a blue stain that was most likely its blood. But what was done was done, and as she found herself suddenly flipped and pinned by a wild-eyed Yuffie, that thought flew right out of her head. "They said you were crazy," Priscilla quipped to the other girl, "but not that you were paranoid, too…"

Eyes glinting, Yuffie pulled herself into a standing position, wincing as she cuffed Priscilla lightly on the arm. "That's no way to talk to your elders," Yuffie smirked, "and besides, if you had the last three days that I just did, you'd be a little crazy yourself."

"Whatever you say, oh Venerable Elder Yuffie…"

"Kid…"

"What?" Priscilla grinned back at the ninja girl, who still looked a little woozy. 'Hopefully she can still fight, though,' she thought. Those monsters weren't getting any further away – fortunately, they did move slowly - but they made it up in relative intelligence; one had separated from what could only be called a 'collective blob' to block the stairs.

"You remind me of _me_," Yuffie griped, pulling Priscilla back to the situation at hand, and filling her with pride. Yuffie Kisaragi, princess, ninja, world-savior, pretty much _the_ epitome of thirteen-year-old 'cool,' thought she was like her. At the brightened expression on the younger girl's face, Yuffie added, "that's not a good thing, you got that? Say –" she paused, "do I know you? You look darn familiar."

Priscilla's grin was positively _blinding._ "You guys – AVALANCHE – you saved me, before Meteor. I was the girl with the dolph…" Taking a look at Yuffie's blank expression, Priscilla rephrased. "…Shiva Materia." And despite the fact that the girl across from her could quite likely kill her with a flick of her wrist, Priscilla giggled at Yuffie's immediate comprehension once she mentioned 'materia.'

"Not funny, kid. Wasn't it 'Prissy,' or something?"

"Priscilla," the little brunette corrected. Casting a look over Yuffie's shoulder, she added, "…you saved me once; you wouldn't mind doing it again, would you?" Gesturing guiltily behind the shinobi, Priscilla was unprepared for the nonchalance of Yuffie's reply.

"I was wondering when you'd bring that up," the shinobi replied. "Just let me…" She paused in mid-motion, remembering at once that her trademark shuriken wasn't strapped to her back – instead, it was likely still in Wutai. Letting out a groan, Yuffie cursed in disappointment. "Oh, _hell_ no…"

Of course, the thought occurred to Yuffie that it was unlikely that she had simply washed up on shore; a shore that hadn't been visible in the few, adrenaline-drenched minutes she'd spent on the dock of the boat. A burning in her arm seemed to respond to her thought, and her knees buckled a little. Firmly shutting _those_ thoughts away – there'd be time for them later – Yuffie rounded on Priscilla. "Say, Priscilla, you wouldn't happen to have any weapons or materia on you, would you?"

This was met with a shrug and a disappointed look. "You're a ninja," Priscilla noted. "You know martial arts, don't you?"

Yuffie smiled tightly. She wasn't known for her patience, and what scraps remained were being sorely tested. "I do. But that's for use on _people,_ kiddo, not gross monsters covered in some sort of goo."

A mutual grimace at the description shifted to a shared grin. Pulling two small knives out of slots in the hilt of her khukri, Priscilla passed them, along with a mid-level Fire materia, over. "They're not much, but…"

"It helps," Yuffie reassured. "Now let's make 'em wish that they'd never crawled out of their holes!"

Although something twanged guiltily in Yuffie's thoughts as she watched Priscilla dash thoughtlessly towards the foremost of the three monsters, she chuckled as the girl dodged one of the tentacles the monster sent at it, twisting in mid-motion to sever it, and the next closest one. So she could fight. Good. Pushing the Fire materia into the single slot in the longer of the two tiny knives' hilt, Yuffie concentrated, effectively immolating the monster to her left.

As it died, however, it let out a piercingly painful screech, the pitch of which pushed Priscilla almost to her knees, and Yuffie to grimace and cover her ears.

The smaller sea ghoul to the right, who had taken a few hits from Priscilla's knife in the previous fight took this as its opportunity, shooting a greenish spray in the girls' direction. Yuffie was able to see it coming in time to dodge, but the younger girl was hit directly and winced, fumbling immediately for the small vial of antidote that she kept fastened to her belt.

"You 'kay?"

Swallowing it down, she smiled. "I'm not down yet. You're not the only kid who can fight."

"Fair – enough!" Yuffie replied, seeing her opening, and diving for the smaller sea monster dispatched it with a lightning-fast series of two-handed stabs. The weapons were unfamiliar, she mused, but they were definitely sharp enough. It was only after her opponent almost literally oozed into the ground that the shinobi realized she was covered in its bluish…goo. Yuffie grimaced. "Holy…" she cursed, brushing herself off while shuddering a little. "How in the Planet's name did Teef _take_ this on a regular basis?"

Backing up from the blob, Yuffie spun around in giddy victory. It had been a while since she'd fought random monsters, and it felt good to know that she still 'had it.' Looking over to where Priscilla stood in front of the last monster, the shinobi smiled as the little brunette defeated it. Wiping the knives on the one clean corner of her blue-spattered shirt, Yuffie passed them over to Priscilla, who brushed off her thanks.

"No prob," Priscilla replied, blushing a little from exertion and from the thought of fighting alongside one of AVALANCHE. "Look… I need a bandage for my arm, and you look like you could use a bath. You don't look like you've made any reservations, Yuffie…"

"No _kidding._" Grinning to soften her words, Yuffie continued. "…If you're offering, I accept. Lead on!" Just then, her stomach growled. Audibly.

"I'll find you some food, too."

"Quiet, kid. It's appreciated, though."

"We'll have to be quiet," Priscilla replied. "Gram and Grandpa are probably asleep by now. But there'll be leftovers in the fridge; Gram _always_ cooks too much."

"Really? I like her already…" Starting towards the stairs, Yuffie motioned for Priscilla to follow. "C'mon, it's getting late."

The girls paused as they approached the stairs; the monster who had separated from the pack they'd beaten was nowhere in sight, but appearances could be deceiving. After a few seconds, Yuffie nodded a go-ahead. The two girls ascended the stairs, and Yuffie Kisaragi found herself in Junon for the first time in two and a half years.

The thought occurred to her that this was where she'd met Reno for the first time, and Yuffie stopped in her tracks, memories flying back at her. 'Go fig… it was in another bar,' she mused. 'Typical.' But a small part of the shinobi's mind held an unhealthy degree of worry. There'd been bad blood between Reno and Ethan; enough to kill either of them, Yuffie knew. 'Mind you,' she thought, 'it didn't sound like he'd killed Reno, when he was bugging me on the boat. Sounded like I was more a ransom than a prize.' Somewhat reassured, Yuffie dashed off after Priscilla, who had continued down the haphazardly lamp-lit street without her.

* * *

After about five minutes of walking, the unlikely duo turned up a path towards a small, if comfortable-looking house. As they reached the door, Yuffie could barely hold in her laughter as Priscilla jimmied the lock, stealing a couple covert looks in her direction to see if the older girl was watching. "You are picking the lock to your _own_ house?" Yuffie queried, her voice a little shaky.

"…forgot my key…" Priscilla mumbled. But her blush was traded for a wide grin as Yuffie spoke.

"A bit more to the top of the lock…" Yuffie shook her head in amused amazement, and waited for the telltale 'snick.' "I'm not sure if I should be proud of you, kid, but you've almost got the hang of it."

But before either girl could reach for the doorknob, it twisted of its own accord, and the door opened on its own.

Again, the older woman on the other side of the door beat both teenagers to the punch. Tugging her housecoat closer, she spoke. "Priscilla Ayla Thomas… what have I _told_ you about being out after dark?" Grey eyes shifted to Yuffie, seeming to notice the disheveled shinobi girl for the first time. "I'm sorry… _who_ are you?"

Slipping into diplomat mode, Yuffie extended a hand in greeting and smiled slightly. "Yuffie Kisaragi, ma'am. The boat I was on… suffered a shipwreck, and I washed up on shore. Priscilla repaid a favour and saved me, kinda."

Grey eyes turned suspicious, although the older woman took Yuffie's hand and shook it firmly. "Just what sort of 'favor' did Priscilla owe you?"

"Gra—aam," Priscilla sulked, brown eyes petulant. "She's cool, I promise – she's the ninja girl from AVALANCHE."

'Gram' raised an eyebrow at Priscilla's interruption. "Ah. Well, that makes sense now, although it would be _Lady_ Yuffie, then, wouldn't it? You've grown up, girl…"

"I'm told that happens," Yuffie replied carefully. "Sorry to be bugging you this late at night…"

"It's all right, dear," she said, but as her eyes moved to Priscilla – who was trying to make herself as tiny as possible while still standing – her expression turned a little exasperated. "Due to _someone else_, I was up anyways."

Priscilla shrunk further.

"But as this someone has undoubtedly already offered you cookies at least, you might as well come in, Yuffie." Opening the door wider, she ushered the two blue-spattered girls through the doorway, only to regard them with some surprise as they stood under the light. "Sea ghoul blood? There's a good story here, I'm sure…"

"I…"

"…that is, we…"

Silencing both girls with a shake of her head, 'Gram' smiled, 'tut'-ing at them both. Yuffie had the distinct impression of a fierce, grey-eyed mother hen as she did so, and had to bite down on her lip to suppress her chuckle.

"You both need baths, and I'm a firm believer that stories are better told when the tellers are warm, clean, and eating cookies. Bath first, and then I'll hear about the trouble that you two got into. Now go on, shoo…"

Exhaling in relief, Priscilla grabbed Yuffie's wrist and nearly tugged her across the room and up the small flight of stairs. Once they had reached the second floor, Priscilla looked up at Yuffie. "It gets better, right?"

Yuffie was lost. "…huh?"

"Y'know… _parents._ They mellow, right? They understand you after you get a little older, and don't 'tut' at you and give you cookies to make you shut up."

The mental images were just great tonight, Yuffie mused, as the sheer _thought_ of Godo clucking and plying her silence with cookies was… rather ridiculous beyond words. A snort issued from between her lips unbidden, and brown eyes danced at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Priscilla asked, a little hurt.

"N…nothing," Yuffie breathed between hiccups. "Just, can you imagine my father doing any of that?

Priscilla's giggle joined Yuffie's as she imagined the stern-looking Wutaian ruler doing just that. She took a breath, and asked with youthful sincerity, "but some things get better, right? I mean, yeah, they might still bug you about boyfriends and stuff, but you get to have adventures and stay up late, right?"

"A bit, I guess…" Taking a look at Priscilla's downcast face, Yuffie added, "I mean, sometimes they might not like what you're doing, but they… love you, I guess. Might not always like you, or what you're doing, but there'll always be _love_ there, kiddo." She almost wished she hadn't added that when Priscilla's expression took on a speculative glint.

"So, what was it like when you brought your first boyfriend home? Did your dad kung-fu him if he so much as looked at you or something?"

Yuffie blinked. "Ah…" Now, this was _not_ the way this conversation was supposed to be going. "Y'see, I was too busy running around the Planet with AVALANCHE to worry about boys…"

"What about them?"

"What about who?" She paled, catching the reference. Waving her hands in a 'no-way' gesture, Yuffie looked back at Priscilla. "Exactly _how _old are you, kid? Seriously, those guys might _look_ like hot stuff, but…"

"…not your type, I got it, I got it." Stopping at the end of the hallway, Priscilla opened the door in front of her. "Here, this is the washroom; the hot water tap on the tub is a little slow, so don't turn it on too quickly, and there's a clean towel on the rack."

"Thanks," Yuffie replied. "And thank your grandma for me, too."

Nodding, Priscilla headed out the door, and had almost closed it when the thought occurred to her that there was a certain type of guy that AVALANCHE had been lacking in. Peeking her head around the door, she grinned. "So… you don't like blonds and you don't like brunets – you've got to like red-heads then!"

This seemed to have some merit to it – at her statement, Yuffie had turned tomato-red from her nose straight out to her ears.

"_OUT.__ NOW!" _Yuffie hollered, sock dangling from one hand.

Priscilla was only too willing to acquiesce – _could_ socks be used as weapons? – but she couldn't help but giggle at the older girl's blatant discomfort.

After Priscilla had shut the door behind her, Yuffie sighed heavily, barely managing to divest herself of what clothing remained and fill the tub two-thirds before collapsing into it in a tangle of limbs and matted hair. 'Redheads…' she thought to herself. 'Damn you, kid.' But she smiled as she cursed, focusing unnaturally on washing her shoulders to distract her subconscious, which had been much too active for her liking recently.

From now on, Reno, and Godo, and Reno meeting Godo… and _damn,_ she was just going to shut up now… were the furthest thing from her mind. "Damn you too, Red," Yuffie mumbled.

There were more important things to worry about at the moment, after all… like how she was going to get this blue gunk out of her hair. Wincing – it was more difficult than it sounded – Yuffie bent herself to her task, and all thoughts of pesky redheads and overbearing fathers were quickly, if temporarily, forgotten.

* * *

"…so that's how it happened." Yuffie concluded an hour later, ensconced in a cozy armchair and happily halfway through her fourth chocolate chip cookie.

The version of events she had told Priscilla and her grandmother had been a heavily censored one, but it got the facts across. She'd let them see where Bahamut had absorbed itself into her arm, and their eyes had widened as it had flashed twice obligingly. But where Priscilla's eyes were wondrous, her matron's swirled with concern, Yuffie noticed with a trace of worry.

Her worry wasn't unfounded. Once 'Gran' – as she had insisted on being called - had prodded Priscilla up to bed with a hug and an expression that clearly read _we're not finished, young lady_, even from across the room, Gran turned to Yuffie, and said exactly what had been on the shinobi's mind for the last four days.

"You're in trouble, Miss Kisaragi."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you're going to have to tell me something I don't know…"

Steepling her fingers, Gram looked over them to Yuffie. "I'm quite serious. There's been news reports about…what happened to you. It's apparently in reaction to the events you were involved with two years ago. Some sort of reaction from the Planet; the Mako in materia wanting to return to the Lifestream, and so each materia finds appropriate..." She winced, clearly not wanting to finish her sentence.

"…hosts?" Yuffie filled in, her tone carefully neutral.

"I'm sorry. Yes. At least that's what I can remember, Yuffie. I don't believe most of what we hear, but it's been said that it's dangerous, and it can lead to all sorts of nasty things. I didn't want to bring it up when Priscilla was down here…"

"Yeah," Yuffie sighed. "Let her stay a kid as long as you can."

Grey eyes now soft, Gran replied. "I wish I didn't have to say this… but you might want to disguise yourself somehow. They've been publishing… lists… of people who are Channelers and posting them around Junon area. "Normal" people aren't taking to this too well, as you can guess…"

"Bastards…" Yuffie swore before she remembered her company. "I'm sorry!"

Gran's eyes were cold once more. "I'm old, not delicate, Lady Yuffie. And while _I_ agree with you, there are those who might not. You're recognizable as it is; the Heir Apparent of Wutai, and your past adventures taken into consideration…"

Yuffie nodded slowly in comprehension. "I get my name on that list, the minute I step out this door, I'm dead."

"As much as I hate to say this, child," Gran replied after hesitation, "yes. You just might be."

**_…TBC…_**

* * *

**DISCLAIMER: **Gran and Priscilla belong to Square. As does Yuffie, and most everything else you recognize. The blue-goopy-sea-ghouls are mine, though… after reading through two different walkthroughs, and not finding any specific Junonian monsters (and not being able to find my FF7 disks) I said "to heck with it" and made my own. But if Square calls, they can have them. I'm willing to trade...

**SABRIEL'S SCRIBBLES: **So, "Hero Worship", or as I like to call it, "Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire." Yuffie just can't keep out of trouble, can she…?

As an aside, in case any of you were thinking "okay, so just _what_ is a khukri?" as Priscilla wielded it in this chapter… it is a mid-length curved knife used by the Gurkhas of India and Nepal of 'our world.' The two small knives she passes off to Yuffie are usually in the hilt or sheath of the larger knife, and are generally utility knives… but in a pinch, I'm sure they'd work as offensive weapons.

Why this weapon? Originally, it was going to be a spear or harpoon, but then I remembered Priscilla was 13, (and spears/harpoons/pikes are HEAVY!); hence something more lightweight. Further info can be found at http : www . swordforum. com / articles / ams / kukri-2.php. (just remove the spaces.)

Hugs and huge thank-you's to everyone who's been reviewing recently; you're my inspiration in more ways than one, and I'm glad that you're enjoying Yuffie and Reno's escapades thus far. This chapter I view as the first part of the 'real' story…

Cheers, Starry Nights… and review, if you'd like. It's always appreciated.


	8. The Illusion

**Not What I'll Have You Believe**

**Part Eight: **The Illusion (Sunday)

* * *

It was a slow morning in the mayoral offices of Neo-Midgar, and Reeve Vanh liked it that way. Planning for the Midwinter festivities had been more draining than he'd expected, and it was nice to be able to sit back – if carefully, cause he hadn't trusted any chair since he'd learned the name 'Reno' – with a lukewarm cup of coffee to read the morning papers.

In fact, his hand was half-poised over said coffee when an unusually irate Elena stormed through the door, a newspaper clutched violently in her hand.

Reeve winced; so much for his quiet morning.

Hazel eyes furious, Elena slammed the paper down on Reeve's desk, the latter pulling his coffee away just in time. "I don't know what you can do about this, Reeve, but I want you to do _something_!"

He only blinked. "Pardon?"

This wasn't good; Elena was volatile, but the last time he'd seen tears in her eyes was back in the Shinra days, right after Tseng's death… Brow furrowing, his eyes moved from the blonde to the headlines, which seemed to glare malevolently up at him: "WUTAI HEIR MISSING, FEARED DEAD."

Damn.

Taking a deep breath, Reeve reached out to grab Elena's shoulders. She was usually in charge of filtering stories like this, but he wasn't about to remind her of that fact. "You know how they blow things out of proportion, Laney… it's just a paper, and you know as well as I do how they twist things. Yuffie's probably reading this as we speak, and laughing her head off."

Unfortunately for Reeve, his words had the opposite effect; Elena's eyes turned to twin points of ice. "_Oh?_ Call Wutai, Reeve. I just got off the phone with Godo – who I woke up no less – and he hasn't seen her in two days. He said… he said to look up our 'little red devil'; he said that _he'd_ know where Yuffie was, and then Godo told us that he'd have to reconsider those trade arrangements if we were going to steal his daughter... He meant Reno, Reeve… I know it. It just doesn't make sense."

_You're kidding,_ Reeve almost stuttered. This time, though, he caught a look at Elena's expression and took a deep breath before answering. "Isn't it possible that she's just hiding out; maybe she met some guy that Lord Kisaragi doesn't like – " One look at Elena's expression had him back-pedalling. "- I'm not saying the guy's _Reno_, but obviously he's tangled up in it somehow – and she took off with him? She's a teenager, Elena; they're known to do crazy things, and this is _Yuffie_ we're talking about…"

"Keep reading, Reeve," Elena hissed.

He did so without further comment, and his eyes widened further as he read the bit about her personal PHS being found, waterlogged, in the pocket of a bloodstained jacket. The pictures at the bottom of the page confirmed all too well that they were the property of the missing girl. Frowning, Reeve gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "I'm thinking you'd better sit down, Elena."

She did, and by the time her eyes met his again, they'd lost their previous wildness and steamed with a calculated fury. Smoothing down an imaginary wrinkle in her collar, Elena took the initiative. "Going over the PR reports for the 'Sun,' I noticed this, but dismissed it as drivel. Tabloid fodder, you know? I figured I'd call Yuffie later today, and have a good laugh over the line with her. I never _dreamed_ that the big papers would pick up something so… vague."

"She's the heir of Wutai, Elena, and a one-time hero... And these pictures don't look vague to me."

"There _weren't_ pictures in the original news summaries! Don't you think I would have looked closer if there were? Do you know how many bogus news reports the Sun gets? 'Sephiroth Returns!' 'The Advent of Opal WEAPON!' It's enough to drive a girl crazy." Almost gasping for breath, Elena paused. "In the meanwhile, my _friend_ is missing, presumed dead, and to top that off, the other major papers must've got an early scoop, so this is plastered everywhere from Kalm to Icicle Inn. You should see the _Junon _paper; it looks like that's where the story originates from. Rude's looking into it - something seemed off about that one, 'cause they were calling her a Conduit, a Channeler, or something. You know what that is?"

Reeve shook his head, his brain racing to catch up with Elena's words. "No."

"I don't either," she added, a little sadly. "I couldn't see straight after the first article…"

Just then, the phone rang – private line, he noted – and cursing under his breath, Reeve lifted the receiver. "Reeve Vanh here. This had better be important." He paused, expression turning surprised. "Miss Lockheart?" He chuckled, and Elena could swear she saw just the slightest tinge of a blush, but shrugged it off. "Fine, _Tifa,_ if you insist. Yes, I have seen the morning papers, yes I do recommend you cut off your phone line and lock your door. I don't suppose…" He waited, shoulders slumping as he got her response. "No, we haven't heard from Yuffie, either."

A knock from Reeve's doorframe – somehow, the doorknob had wedged itself into the wall – drew Elena and Reeve's attention to Rude, who stood just outside. "Not interrupting, am I?"

Elena shook her head, and gestured towards the other chair. "He's on the phone with Tifa Lockheart; seems like she's getting some unwanted attention from the press." Noting the file folder he held, her lips quirked into a tiny smile. "Good news?"

Rude's reply caught at her heart. "Is it ever?"

But before Elena could collapse in tears, he reached over to her and squeezed her shoulders gently. "…It's not the _worst_ news, Laney," he added gruffly.

Her eyes met his, and although he'd meant to wait until Reeve was off the phone to share what he'd found, he knew he couldn't resist her. "There's no body – it's that simple. The Junon article messed up some pretty significant verb tenses, and something else they said… Kisaragi's missing, all right, but I'm sure someone, most likely in Junon, is trying to find her, _alive._"

"…you're headed _here_?" Reeve's voice was incredulous. "…Oh, Midwinter, you're right of course; that's in a week, isn't it? I'd forgotten, with everything…" A sniffle, audible over the phone line even to Rude and Elena, replied.

"Smooth, Vanh," Elena observed quietly. After hearing Reeve trying to recover his situation, she continued. "Tell Tifa to get her arse over here, stat, so we can keep an eye on it – not _you,_ though, Rude. You'd like that too much." Glaring playfully at Rude, who had affected an angelic expression at her words, Elena's eyes sparkled with some fraction of their usual light.

"You heard the woman," Reeve echoed to Tifa, his tone tired, but even. "We'll figure this out, and… it's best, to be with friends, now. Either way."

_. o ._

Yuffie woke with a start, eyes opening violently. She couldn't remember much of her dream, only… falling and a vague sense of being suspended over water. 'Maybe,' she mused, 'this is what I missed yesterday.'

A rumbling somewhere in the back of her semi-conscious mind seemed to confirm this theory. "Fine, fine. We sure showed old blondie though, didn't we?" Chuckling wryly, Yuffie was reminded of a conversation that she'd had with Cloud before they'd parted ways. Having voices in the back of your head, he'd said, was relatively normal at least in this day and age. _Responding_ to them, however, was another thing…

Rubbing her hand across her eyes, she resolved to get a cup of tea from the kitchen and then try to go back to sleep. She resolved to ignore that rumbling, and figure it all out in the morning.

Pushing back the blankets, Yuffie padded quietly across the floor and down the stairs, wondering absently why it was so sunny already.

"Good morning, Miss Kisaragi." Gran looked up from her mystery novel as Yuffie made it to the main floor. "You slept well?"

Yuffie chuckled. "I had this strange dream… I was gonna grab some tea, then go back to sleep and wake up at a decent hour."

"You've certainly become accustomed to the hours of a princess, Yuffie. It's ten o'clock." The older woman's tone was amused, but her eyes were troubled.

"The time zone change… right. Forgot about that." Catching Gran's eyes, Yuffie's brow furrowed slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Sit down, Miss Kisaragi," Gram replied, not unkindly. As she gestured to a chair, Yuffie ran over the conversation that she had had with the elderly woman the night previous, looked at the papers on the table, and paled as she put two and two together.

"I'm on that list, aren't I?"

Princess, ninja, saviour, thief, heir apparent… Yuffie might have been all those things, Gran mused, but as she looked across the table at the young girl, it was the eyes of a child that she looked into. Even so, they had no time for fancy words, and Gran nodded. "You are, Yuffie."

Brown eyes deep in thought, Yuffie cracked a tentative grin. "It won't be easy to get me _off_ the Channeler's list, will it?" Sitting down, she picked up the Junon Daily, only to stiffen in fury as she took in the front page. Not only had she made the front-page, daily-updated Channeler's list; oh no. Pictures of a terribly familiar jacket and PHS stared silently back at her under glaringly black headlines, but it was the article below that made Yuffie's blood boil. After an obsequious paragraph or so that described her exploits, the excerpt became technical, stating how the tests done on the bloodstained jackets had revealed her as a Channeler; one able to absorb Materia and take their power as her own. It went on to say that perhaps it was for the best that she _had_ died; the article described the Channeling process as painful, leading to mood swings, altered behavior and in severe cases, like 'those common when anchoring a Summon materia' – Yuffie cracked a pained grin at this – dementia, fits of uncontrolled rage, and eventually death. "Goody," she muttered under her breath. Meeting Gran's eyes with a bravado that she knew was pitifully thin, Yuffie finally spoke. "I need weapons. Big ones."

Looking up once again from her novel, Gran smiled wistfully. "I know. You'll need more than that, though… and it won't be easy. But I can think of a way, Yuffie. Adrian – my husband – he knows someone who I think can help you for some of it." Getting up from her chair to grab the toast from where it had popped out of the toaster, Gran put the pieces on a plate, and paused. "Butter and sangberry jam?"

Much to her embarrassment, Yuffie's stomach rumbled in instinctive accord. Sure, Ethan had been careful to heal her shoulder when she'd been tied up, and she _had _to wonder why he'd bothered to cast Esuna on her in their last few harried moments on the boat – he was the only one who _could_ have lifted the Poison spell, unless the dragon who had since taken up residence in her body knew how to heal as well – but he hadn't been too generous where food had been concerned. To be running on the energy from a handful of cookies didn't count for much if you were Yuffie Kisaragi. Remembering her manners, she smiled back. "Yes, thank you. That'd be great."

The two of them ate in relative silence, Yuffie's mind flying at odd tangents as she chewed thoughtfully. "Do you have a phone I can borrow, Gran?"

Grey eyes regarded her thoughtfully. "Are you sure, Yuffie?"

"One call, Gran. I can trust him."

"I hope so," Gran murmured after Yuffie had picked up the phone and half-skipped up the stairs to the guest bedroom. "For your sake, Miss Kisaragi, I hope you can…"

_. o ._

Settling on the bed, Yuffie looked down at the phone. It could be tapped, wired, set to explode for all she knew… but it _looked_ perfectly innocent, and she needed to talk with someone she knew, if only to reassure herself that though the world had unanimously decided to go crazy over the last three days, _she _had not.

Only one number she could call, then…"Jade, it's me."

There was an incredulous silence on the line for a half-second. "…_Yuffie_?"

She chuckled. "The one and only. Harder to kill than those bastards thought, I think."

He didn't reply to that, choosing to go with the more traditional "where the _hell_ are you?" Although obviously still half-asleep, a curious mixture of emotion was clear in Jaden's reply.

"I…uh… probably shouldn't say."

"Are you safe?" Jaden began. "Are you being held hostage?"

"Yes," Yuffie replied, biting back a giggle at his mother-hen tone. Now was _not_ the time. Besides, it was good to hear that people cared… "And no."

"Well, then," he countered, obviously straining to keep his tone even. "Are you _crazy?_ Do you have any idea what is going on?"

"I…do," Yuffie replied, picking her words carefully. "And it's a longer story than we've got time for, Jade. Tell Dad – tell Dad I'm fine, but that I've got some things I have to take care of. Nothing big."

Jaden couldn't help but laugh. "You and I both know he's not gonna buy that. Yuffie, you helped to save the world from a demigod whose sword was longer than I am tall when you were _seventeen._"

"Cloud did all the tough work…"

"True as that may be," Jaden chuckled, "your old man is just paranoid that you're going to try to top that particular stint. And so far you're not doing too badly. Have you _seen_ the papers, Yuff?"

"I have," she replied carefully. "But they're wrong; drivel, Jade. Since when have people listened to the papers, anyway?"

"It matters, Yuffie. People are listening, and they're scared. Maybe not of you," he corrected quickly, "but of those who are different. You – Channelers – are getting heralded as the new SOLDIER class; innately stronger, faster, smarter, the whole kit and caboodle. Mentally unstable, sure, but it's being hailed as "curable," whatever that means."

"I don't think we want to know," Yuffie replied, vaguely sickened.

"You're probably right, Yuff… Either way, Godo's up in arms, kid. He's proud of you for all his bluster, and seeing all this… it's not good for him."

"Sure, sure. I'll believe that when I see it," Yuffie replied callously to the first bit, bristling at Jaden's response that compared her to her father quite succinctly. "I'd punch you if I could reach you for that, Jade."

Jaden chuckled, but he replied in earnest. "I'll hold you to that, Princess… Come home safe, will you?" He paused in thought for a second, and added as an afterthought, "say, Yuffie… is that redhead still with you? The Turk?"

Stifling the shiver that traced down her spine, Yuffie responded to the negative. "We got split up back in Wutai, Jade. I haven't seen him since." Memories of that night flashed back unwittingly; the fight, the lackeys, the late-night motorcycle ride, Sabrina's traitorous shot… and through it all, the memory of impossibly red hair and a terribly charming smirk. Damn the man, anyways. _Wait._ "Jaden?" Yuffie asked.

"Mmmhmm?"

"Have you seen Sabrina at all? Sabrina Shikibu… works at the Autumn Lotus, long hair, blue eyes?"

Jaden almost choked. "Are you _kidding, _Yuff? She's the one who raced to the Pagoda on your bike and burst through Godo's doors Saturday morning to say you'd been kidnapped, lugging your blood-stained Oritsuru with her…"

"That witch stole my _bike_?" Yuffie shrieked.

"I think you're missing the point, Yuffie." Tested patience clear in his tone, Jaden tried to calm Yuffie, who was swearing up an admittedly creative storm. "Point being, she told Godo that the redhead who you helped up the stairs that night – with help from his cronies – is the one who kidnapped you. Lord Godo's keeping it quiet for now, but he's furious, Yuffie. He's even considering the cancellation of that energy trade agreement with NeoMidgar… and he's already cutting off transport and communication ties to the other continents. You're lucky you got through to me…"

Yuffie's laughter bordered on the mildly hysterical as she answered. "I can't believe this, Jade! You _believed_ her, enough to go this far? She's the one who shot me down, and you welcome her with open arms? I thought you were smarter than that…"

He paused, obviously surprised by her claim. "How were we supposed to believe differently? You weren't there to refute it, Yuffie. Neither was this Turk of yours." At her spluttering, Jaden smiled. He'd have to remember that reaction… but he continued, outwardly ignoring it. "…and even _you_ have to admit that Wutai and Shinra don't have the best history. It makes for a clear cover story."

The shinobi girl grinned. "Maybe it does. But think, Jade. Where do I keep my bike keys?"

"Your necklace."

Dawning comprehension; how she loved it. Almost on cue, a soft red glow pulsed from her arm, as if to remind her of her _first_ love. In response, Yuffie glared down at it, a smile quirking the corner of her lips despite herself. Returning her attention to Jaden, she pursued her argument. "Right. And if Sabrina's the hero that she likes to fashion herself, if she shows up only in time to see little me bound and tied and slung over the shoulder of the Evil Bad Guys, how the heck does she get close enough to nab my _keys – _which, by the way, I can't touch because I'm tied up?"

Shaking off his blankets, Jaden paced across his floor as he listened. Yuffie was making a lot of things clearer, but for every half-truth uncovered, it displayed a deeper game than he had feared. "So," he restarted, "what _did_ happen?"

_. o ._

Half an hour and a sore ear later, Yuffie walked down the stairs with a fractionally lighter heart. Looking at the new addition to the table – an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, carefully styled, and wearing traveler's clothes – Yuffie cocked a curious eyebrow at Gran, who sat beside him and had caught the shinobi's glance.

"Adrian, this is the traveler I was telling you about; Yuffie Kisaragi."

Adrian looked over his shoulder at her and frowned, turning back to Gran. "Grania, you said I'd be helping a stowaway, not a first-class fugitive. We've…others… to think of."

It was the first time Yuffie had seen Gran angry, and she sincerely hoped it was the last. Rising to her feet, grey eyes sparking, she made the most of her rather diminutive size. "Adrian Stasny, I can't believe you. Fugitive or not, she needs our help, and she protected Priscilla three years ago. Leastways you can do is find her a weapon and a new place to stay." Grania's voice softened, and she rubbed her husband's shoulders lightly. Leaning down, she whispered, "I know it's too much of a risk to keep them together; they'll be found for sure. But the girl's got a good heart; she deserves a chance."

Yuffie sincerely doubted that she was supposed to hear the whispered part, and her pulse quickened. She hadn't heard of or seen anyone else in the house, and it was clear that both Gran and Adrian were perfectly 'normal' – at least for now in the way that mattered. Remembering a little girl and her affinity with dolphins – and water of any type – Yuffie trembled. _She_ could manage being kidnapped and shot and lugged on a half-rate boat to Leviathan knows where, but the thought of little Priscilla going through the same treatment frightened her even more. She could be wrong, but as Adrian's eyes met hers, and smiled with a terrible sadness, Yuffie knew she wasn't.

"You figured it out, Kisaragi? You must understand, then. It isn't ungratefulness for what you and your friends did in the past… but she's our grand-daughter; the only tie we have to our daughter, and with you here she is at terrible risk."

"I understand," Yuffie replied, downcast. Before she could add to it, Adrian interrupted her, and gestured her towards the table.

"Ifrit's sake, girl, don't look so down! I didn't say I wasn't going to help you. An old friend of mine, " he chuckled, " – no, really more of a young friend; Matt's maybe got five years on you – knows more about this whole hodgepodge of a situation that I can pretend to. More importantly, he runs a weapons shop, and I know for a fact the latest shipment of Wutaian-style weaponry arrived a week ago."

Yuffie's ears pricked up at the sound of 'weapons.' She doubted that they'd be as good as what she had become used to – Wutaian weaponry, like the rest of her culture, seemed to be a fad these days in the big cities, which inspired a lot of lucrative exports of varying qualities. Shaking those thoughts aside, she nodded abashedly, taking a seat across from the elderly pair. "I don't have money to pay for a weapon, Adrian. I don't know how much Gran told'ya, but I was kinda shipwrecked last night…"

This time, Gran spoke up. "Matthias is a good boy and a friend; he won't charge you full, and you can pay us back the next time you come to Junon. It's the least we can do for you, Yuffie. And before that, there's a friend of mine I think you might need to visit. In the meanwhile, let's enjoy the morning, shall we?" Pushing the plate of fresh-baked cookies towards the young girl, Gran smiled warmly. "Cookie?"

Taking one with relish, Yuffie recalled the talk she'd had last night with Priscilla, and grinned wryly. Maybe parents never really changed, after all…

_. o ._

Meanwhile, Reno walked out of the tiny room he'd slept in on the large schooner headed for Costa del Sol, stretching a crick in his neck that must have blossomed as he'd slept He'd fought his way aboard the "Lady Murasaki" the night before, catching the night guard by surprise as the pair of them stood alone in front of the gangplank leading up to the ship. Reno grinned as he remembered how he'd tripped the first unceremoniously, and levered the unfortunate man into the harbour waters below; the second, however, had been a little more difficult. Reno had recovered from his sweep to find the tip of a dagger brushing the side of his neck, and a more competent guardsman staring down at him angrily, ignoring the waterlogged spluttering of his surfaced companion…

_. o ._

"Stand," the guardsman had ordered, keeping his weapon on the redhead. "What business have you here?"

Reno grinned lazily. "I heard at the Jade Turtle, or some such, that this ship was sailin' for Costa. I thought I might just join it…" Nonchalantly, his right hand moved to his hip where his nightstick was holstered. It had been a while since he'd been in a fair fight, but it never hurt to be ready for one…

The guardsman frowned, his free hand smoothing long black hair that had been pulled into a neat queue. "We don't allow stowaways, not even if they're Turks," he replied, smirking as Reno flinched a little in surprise. "The scars and the hair give you away. Blue suit or not, you've got a bit of a reputation, _Reno_…" Hissing the name as if it were poisonous, the guardsman tightened his grip on the dagger. To his credit, however, his gaze didn't waver.

Quickly gaining his composure, Reno took a step forward, flicking the nightstick out of its holster as he did so, and smiling as the other man took a half-step backwards. "You know of me, then? Good. So perhaps you'd like to join your buddy in the water, or maybe you'll be willing to make _one_ exception." He chuckled as the guardsman shook his head. "No?"

"No," the brunet echoed. "You shamed my night watch, and you wish to do something illegal. I won't let that slide, but if you beat me in one-on-one contact, and help me get Jin there back up once we are done, I shall allow you onto the ship."

Shaking his head to hide his amusement – these Wutaians and their sense of honour – Reno agreed. "I hope your man can swim," he added.

Jin replied from the water, no longer spluttering, but treading water nonchalantly. "Like a fish, you Midgarian dog."

For a half-second, green eyes fixed taunting blue ones, and quelled them. Damned if Jin didn't look familiar, but Reno dismissed it. He had more important things to think about. "Better watch out, then… dogs eat shrimp like you for breakfast, last I checked."

"Stow your jib, Jin." Dark eyes dancing with merriment, the other watchman added his two cents. "This dog here's got a fight with me first." Looking at Reno, he added, "I issued the challenge; is there a ground you'd prefer to fight on?"

Reno grinned, the moonlight catching his eyes and making them sparkle with an unearthly light. He took in the dock's uneven boarding, the rather narrow width, and the dimmed port-light suspended above them which cast this part of the dock in uneven, fractured light; this would be difficult, but the look on the other man's face was a challenge if he ever saw one, and he knew – at least in this – that there was no other real choice. "Here works."

"Good." Matching grins, made eerie by their striking similarity, but the seaman was the first to speak. "I call terms, then. No blood, merely to the point of surrender. And turn the sparks off, Turk."

Drawing a mocking bow – and noting the decaying floorboard behind him as he did – Reno assented, and depressed the switch on the top of his nightstick. "As you wish." No further words were spoken, but Reno spun into a defensive stance as the guardsman dove at him, pulling another dagger from his sheath. Blocking the upper slash strike with his nightstick, and the lower with his wrist, Reno caught the seaman's right arm with his free hand, and used the hand holding his nightstick to push on the man's chest as he used his front leg to sweep the brunet to the dock. Falling gracefully, the seaman braced with his left hand to soften the fall, but as he did so, he released the dagger in that hand, which skittered across the deck and out of reach.

But before Reno could point his nightstick to the prone man's neck and signal victory, the seaman knocked away the nightstick and sprung upwards in a move that Reno faintly remembered Tseng using, ages ago. Those thoughts were quickly dispelled, as Reno narrowly ducked a slash from the remaining dagger. Due to his quick response, all vital parts were safe, but he watched, horrorstruck, as a tuft of crimson hair drifted innocently to the boards of the dock. Looking up into the seaman's smirk, Reno fumed.

"No harsh feelings, hey, Turk? You needed a haircut, anyways…"

With what could only be described as a growl, the redhead surged forward, and the fight began in earnest. Jin chuckled as he watched the two, and yelled the occasional encouragement to his fellow seaman; he hadn't seen Chang move that fast in _months._ He hadn't seen him for months, but that was beside the point... And, he had to admit, Reno was no slouch, either; the redhead had certainly become stronger since he'd seenhim last. Floating calmly now, Jin smiled. For the amusement alone – not to mention the insults flying between the two men that he'd have to bug Chang about later – it was almost worth getting knocked into the water for…

The smile faded, however, as he realized Reno was leading Chang right for the weak floorboard that he'd tested at the outset of their combat. But by the time he realized it, it was too late. Parrying a stab, Reno shuffled backwards, and taunted the dark-haired man, whose responding lunge carried him right onto the trap. Chang's lead foot splintered the decaying wood, and his leg fell in, trapping the seaman up to his knee. Grinning, Reno jumped theatrically to the side, and tapped his nightstick to the back of the seaman's neck. "Point," he said merrily.

"Conceded," the brunet grumbled, his tone lightening as Reno carefully hauled him out of the hole and onto the deck. "Good fight, Turk. My bargain stands."

Reno's smile was wicked, but his eyes were a little sad as he replied. "Turks died with Shinra, sailor. Call me Reno or don't call me at all."

"Will do, landlubber. You kept your word when you could have fried me, and I thank you for it. Now let's get this fish aboard, shall we?" Gesturing towards Jin, both men leaned over the dock and hauled the other sailor onto it.

Irreverently, Jin addressed Chang. "Good thing he's a Turk, Captain. Otherwise I'd have to wonder if you're getting slow." Rubbing a hand through his impossibly spiked brown hair, Jin grinned, and dodged the jesting swipe that Chang sent his way.

Reno's eyes widened. There was only one person who wore his hair that way – oh, sure, people tried to imitate it, but he trusted himself enough to know the genuine article – and even if it was brown at the moment… Storing that thought away for consideration and future reference, Reno turned to Chang. "_Captain?"_ he questioned.

Chang only chuckled. "Indeed. Captain Chang of the 'Lady Murasaki,' finest ship in Wutai Harbor, at your service."

Reno only shook his head. "Well, captain, you need a bandage, and I need a rum. Scratch that," he grinned, "lots of rum. I'm sure that…Jin, here, won't let you down again." Leaning towards the blue eyed man, Reno shooed an amused Chang up the gangplank, and addressed Jin. "I don't know what you're doing here, or why your hair is that abysmal colour. Leviathan knows why I'm saying this, but your secret is safe. We'll talk later… Strife."

Smirking at the other man's expression of impressed surprise, Reno spun on his heel and followed Chang up the gangplank, singing merrily."…Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me…"

Standing at the edge of the gangplank, an unmasked Cloud Strife could only shake his head in wonder.

_. o ._

…_TBC…_

_. o ._

**Disclaimer: **Nope, they don't belong to me. Chang, Jaden, Adrian, and Grania (Gran) are mine, however… the concept of Channeling is kind of mine, but borrows enough from FF8 for me not to stake clear claims. Lucky Square.

**Sabe's Scribbles: **Hm. Cloud decided to pop up out of _nowhere_. Go figure, I had this story all planned out, but it _does_ explain nicely where Mr. Strife disappears to, and suits him better than mooning endlessly over the past... I've grown rather fond of the blond swordsman, despite his neuroses. And let's face it, writing interaction between Reno and Cloud is going to be fun. The players are gathering, some unwittingly, some less so… yet the puppeteer is still content to hide in the shadows. I'll see if I can shake her out within the next couple of chapters…

Special thank-yous go out to _Tijuana Pirate, Jess Angel, Crystaline-Dragon, Konie Hime, Cendrillo, Okami no hanyou_ (finds green jello, eats it happily), _Heather Cat, Inimitable DA, Joy Blue, Xtreme Nuisance, and J _for reading and enjoying the last chapter. Y'all are great, and your words of encouragement go far (if not quickly, cause Sabe is laaaazy) to spur me into writing!

And to the unknown reader… I hope you've enjoyed the story thus far; comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. In the meanwhile, Cheers and Starry Nights!


	9. Reconstruction

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Nine:** Reconstruction

* * *

By mid-morning, Reno remembered that he should probably warn Reeve of Yuffie's disappearance.

Considering that _he_ was the last person known to be around Yuffie before she disappeared, the odds were not in the redhead's favour if that barkeep told Godo of his daughter's act of kindness.

Short of swearing that she was nowhere near him – which was true – there wasn't much that Reno had in his defence.

Any lack of evidence had never stopped Reno as a Turk, but life had changed. Both his suit and his helicopter were nowhere in sight, he'd given back his pass card, and Reeve couldn't be intimidated. Embarrassed, yes. The good Mayor Vanh was easier to tease than 'Laney, but that wasn't going to help him. Nor, come to think of it, were Reno's previous comrades-in-arms – right away, at least. Looking around the barren cabin, he sighed. Even if Rude talked too little and Elena talked too much… he missed them.

Instead, he was stuck on a boat. Reno _hated_ boats. To sweeten the deal, the only people he was allowed to interact with were the captain, and Cloud Strife going through another identity crisis.

Fortunately, _this_ identity seemed more stable.

Reno shoved himself off of his berth, rotating his shoulders to stretch out a sore spot. Pushing his blankets into a semblance of order, he shrugged and headed towards Chang's cabin. The Captain had told him to stay below deck; while the easygoing Mideelian didn't have a quarrel with Reno, he worried that some of his crew might.

The Captain's cabin was only three down from his own, so Reno didn't have any problems with that condition. It made accessing the expensive-looking portable communicator that the Captain had on his desk that much easier.

_. o ._

As soon as Yuffie finished her lunch, the older woman's tone turned businesslike. "…All right, Miss Kisaragi, if we are going to miss the lunch rush, I suggest we go now."

"Sorry," Yuffie replied.

Gran shrugged. "Ah, dear, there's nothing you can do about it." Passing a hat to Yuffie, Gran stepped into her shoes.

Adrian, who had remained silent, spoke up. "I'll meet you at Matthias' at one, Grania. Yuffie." Nodding curtly, he slipped on his own coat, pausing beside the confused shinobi girl. "Forgive an old man his gruffness," he said softly. "I know you're a fighter, girl; keep my Grania safe."

"Will do," Yuffie whispered. She added, louder, "Gran? Let's get this show on the road!"

As it turned out, their first stop wasn't far from the house; a modest salon on a side street. Before entering, Gran passed a small compact to Yuffie. "Here," Gran said. "It's not much of a disguise, but it will help a little."

Puzzled, Yuffie cracked open the box to discover green-tinted contact lenses. "Gran, these are expensive. I can't…"

Gran shook her head, interrupting Yuffie's stutter. "You can and you will, girl. Or haven't you seen that you're just a little more noticeable than you want to be right now?" Gesturing subtly to the billboard to their right, which was advertising the dangers of Channelers, Gran closed Yuffie's hand around the box and handed her a small mirror from her purse. "It's for the best."

Taking the mirror, Yuffie nodded. Placing the contacts in, she winced at the unusual pressure, but mustered a cheerful grin as Gran pushed open the door to the salon. As she settled, Yuffie noted how odd the salon was; unexpectedly modern and peaceful, not to mention spotless, it struck a distinct contrast to the chaos her life had become. Glaring balefully at a potted fern, she almost didn't notice the entrance of a woman from the back room. Yuffie had a stiletto from her lock picking kit in her hand immediately, but hid it behind her palm. Gran's relaxed posture seemed to indicate that this woman was a friend.

"Good to see you, Grania. Adrian and Priscilla are well, I hope?"

"They are, dear; thank-you for asking." Smiling, Gran laid her hand on Yuffie's shoulder. "This is the young lady I mentioned."

Turning to Yuffie, the woman's expression registered surprise, quickly veiled by bemusement. "I see. Do you have something against my plants Miss… Akiko?"

Glancing at the clipboard in her hand, the unfamiliar woman spoke up.

Yuffie blinked, looking with mild surprise at Gran. "No," she said, slowly. "I was just wondering when your plant would… would bloom… that's all."

"Sure," the woman replied. "I'm Candace, your stylist."

Yuffie shook her hand. "…Akiko."

"So I hear. Now, what would you like done?"

"We were thinking a style and colour," Gran interjected. "Akiko here has been such a help to us, and I wanted to do something kind for her in return."

"Really, now? And just where did you two meet?"

Yuffie tried to relax, pressing confidence into her reply as Candace steered her towards the sink. "I'm on exchange, actually. I've taught Priscilla for the last little while."

"Oh?" Candace prompted.

"Yup. A little bit of Phys. Ed, actually. Some social studies. I've always been interested in them, you might say." Enjoying the warm air as Candace dried her hair, Yuffie relaxed.

"I would imagine a princess would know the social sciences well, having being born into the middle of them," Candace noted later, her hands tousling Yuffie's hair to dry it.

Yuffie pushed herself to her feet, the stiletto from earlier pressed into the hollow of Candace's neck. "Explain," she hissed, praying that the woman hadn't called anything even _resembling _the authorities.

Coughing, the older woman raised a hand to her throat. "Your picture's… in the paper, dear. And whether - you're believed to be dead or not – it takes more than a hat and a different name to fool people – especially considering your previous celebrity with AVALANCHE."

"And?" Yuffie persisted.

"I owe Grania, so I'll help you."

Yuffie only tightened her hold. "Why did you go with the false name that Gran gave me?"

"Security." Candace smiled coolly despite the choke hold she was in. "Surely you - of all people, can appreciate that. Look. I'm willing to help you blend in, but you have got to let me go first."

Yuffie stepped back. "Gran trusts you, and I've got no other choice." Eyeing Candace carefully, Yuffie sat down again. "You really think that you can disguise me?"

"Dear, I'm a stylist," Candace replied. "It's my _job_ to do exactly that."

A tiny smile quirked Yuffie's lips as she realized that her hair was woefully in need of some form of maintenance. As it was, it hung limp around her shoulders, and was matted awfully – even the clean-up at Gran's hadn't managed to revive it. Candace seemed to be thinking along similar lines, as she picked up a couple of strands disdainfully.

"Now, I was thinking a trim would get rid of this – but what colour? Blonde would stand out far too much, and brunette? Perhaps, but it's too similar…"

As Candace continued to ramble, Yuffie interjected. "As long as it's not blue, it doesn't matter," and let the hairdresser get to work.

_. o ._

Pulling up to the modest municipal buildings of NeoMidgar, Tifa couldn't help but smile. She remembered planting some of the trees that flanked the promenade two years ago; hard to believe that the buildings – that most of the _city –_ had come so far in its reconstruction since then.

Locking her truck more out of habit, she headed for the building itself. Passing a blonde eating lunch on one of the benches out front, Tifa reached for the door.

"Hey, Lockheart – he's at lunch. Sent me to grab you and take you to your apartment. Reeve will send for you later, he said."

Whirling around to find the source of the voice, she found that the blonde woman raised her hand in a quick wave. "Elena?" Tifa asked, surprised.

"That's me," Elena replied, proffering one half of her sandwich as Tifa walked over. "Are you hungry?"

Shaking her head, Tifa ran a hand through her hair. "Thanks; I ate on the road." Pausing for a second, she looked down at Elena. "You said _apartment. _Um…"

"You think we've got hotels built already, Lockheart? Reeve's got a head on his shoulders. And even the hotels that didn't take damage are booked for Midwinter's..."

"My truck's right here," Tifa interrupted as they traveled past it in the parking lot. But if Elena's expression was any indication, the oversight was deliberate.

"I _know_," the other woman sighed, exasperated. "And there's no way in Hades I'm going to sit in it. No offence meant, Lockheart, but I can't believe that bucket of bolts made it here." She smiled, gesturing at the motorcycle zooming into the parking lot. "Neither could Reeve when he heard you were still driving it; he sent Rude out to make sure you'd make it through the city."

Stopping beside the two women, Rude had enough grace to look politely chagrined. "Elena; Miss Lockheart," he greeted.

Uncurling her fists, Tifa looked up. "I don't need a bodyguard, you know…"

Rude shrugged. "Reeve's orders. Besides –"

"Well," Elena interjected, sending a careful look at her partner, "we'd best be going. You need time to unpack and I'm sure you're tired, what with driving all that way…"

"But…" Tifa started – futilely, as Elena corralled her into a sleek black sedan. Tifa blinked; when had the blonde ex-Turk grabbed the bulk of her baggage from the back of the truck?

The thought occurred to her that it was disastrously unwise to get into a car with someone who was barely an uneasy ally by association. Exhausted or not, Tifa knew she could find some form of lodging – it wasn't hard, with _her_ face – and seek Reeve out later…

"Shiva, Lockheart. What did you pack? _Rocks?_"

Tifa wasn't a successful bartender for nothing; Turk training or not, that was a very real smile presently gracing Elena's face. Relaxing a little, she tried a smile. "Only a few." As Elena settled into the driver's seat, however, Tifa's jaw dropped a little. "Speaking of rocks…" she murmured. "I didn't hear you were engaged."

Elena's smile brightened. "We were hoping for a wedding at Midwinter's. Nothing large or fancy, but now –" Her smile disappearing, Elena accelerated, zooming around to pass the car in front of her.

Biting her lip, Tifa frowned. "You haven't heard from her yet, either, have you?"

"I shouldn't worry," Elena replied. "She's _Yuffie_, for Shiva's sake. She's probably just off on some ninja-mission _thing_ and got lost, and her jacket got found and the press probably just made a big deal out of it. But Godo – he hasn't seen her either, and he's furious – he thinks that Reno has something to do with it, even though Reno called us from somewhere on the sea just a few hours ago – he's on a boat, which, yes, we confirmed, he's _not_ with Yuffie, Lockheart, so stop looking at me like that – and he's en route to Junon. He fought his way onto the boat, Reeve told me. Utterly _typical…_ But we can't get in contact with Godo to tell him any of this so Godo's blaming us. He's shut down the harbours and helipads across the Chao continent and it's _impossible_ to even contact Wutai if you don't know the backdoors and I don't even want to get into the trade negotiations…" Trailing off, Elena swore. "And I wasn't supposed to tell you _any_ of that. I –"

Tifa held up her hand, overwhelmed. "It's worse than I thought. Is… is there any truth about Reno? Being a part of this, I mean."

Noting the brunette's chilly tone, Elena took a deep breath. "I don't really know. It's complicated."

"The situation involves Yuffie and Reno, not to mention stubborn bureaucrats and a media circus that even managed to reach Icicle. Of _course_ it's complicated, Elena…"

"No need to be snippy, Lockheart. You're not the only one who is worried." Pulling the car abruptly to the curb and braking, Elena continued. "We're here, let's get you in."

Before the other woman could leave the car, Tifa reached over. "Look, could you just call me Tifa? I feel like I'm back in school, what with you and Rude calling me "Miss" or "Lockheart." When Elena didn't answer, Tifa chuckled nervously. "It's only fair; I don't know your last name."

"It's Andrews," Elena replied, hefting the heavier of the two duffel bags over her shoulder and starting up the stairs. "For now, at least. But, sure. Tifa it is."

_. o ._

Once Candace announced that she was done, Yuffie grinned. Wondering exactly how short her hair had been cut, and almost fearing the result of her snap decision, Yuffie cracked one eye open to look at her reflection in the mirror…

…and nearly screamed. It seemed, as the ninja girl fought the peals of laughter that threatened to cast too much attention in her direction that the change had worked perhaps a little too well.

She didn't look like particularly like Yuffie Kisaragi… which was a good thing, considering that little problem of having a large ransom on her head. But the girl reflected in the mirror seemed far too familiar for different reasons. Bright eyes, their natural brown hues enhanced by emerald contact lenses peeked out from below wispy strands of hair that had been dyed a deep cherry red and tousled in a fashion Yuffie could only guess was artistic. The end result was undeniable, and the comparison was inevitable.

Leviathan help her, but she looked like _him_.

It was clear as they emerged from the styling room that Gran thought so too, carefully covering her smile with the magazine she had been reading. "We should be going, Yuffie," Gran noted, looking down at her pocket watch as she paid Candace. "It will take time to get to Matthias' from here, and he's rather particular about meeting strangers."

With a shrug, Yuffie followed Grania out of the shop, her curiosity growing as they wound quickly through back streets into the heart of Junon proper.

A couple of minutes later, they had reached Matthias' small weapon shop. Meeting Adrian at the door, Yuffie slipped off of Grania's arm and smiled. "I'll go in. You two can head back, 'cause I'll be a while."

"You're sure, Yuffie?"

"I'm sure, Adrian… sir. I can't thank you enough; _both_ of you." Running a hand awkwardly through her hair – it hadn't been this short in two years, easily – Yuffie answered.

Gran frowned. "You don't have to run, Miss Kisaragi…" Meeting Yuffie's eyes, her frown deepened. "Maybe you do. Come back once you're done here to say goodbye to Priscilla before you scamper off or we'll never hear the end of it. Can you do that much?"

"Sure." With a wave to the departing couple, Yuffie slipped into the weapons shop. Almost immediately, and despite the impressive array of sharp and potentially deadly merchandise lining the walls and counters, Yuffie relaxed. She supposed it said something about her character that this was the place in which she had felt most at home in four days, but as her eye caught the Wutaian weaponry display, she pocketed the thought. There were more important matters at hand.

Unfortunately, the bulk of the weaponry – the shuriken, at least – were ornamental. They weren't blunted, but they were weighted incorrectly, and had completely useless curlicues and barbs attached to, or carved into the blades. Pretty, yes. But even _she_ knew that flashy weaponry would be one of the first things to get her noticed. The red hair didn't help, but if she added exotic tools to her ensemble, whoever had sent Ethan would notice her right away. The jerk talked with a Junon accent; she'd sat in on enough of her father's meetings to pick up on that. Whether he'd managed to escape or not – and at this stage of the game, Yuffie wasn't putting anything past him – she was certain he wasn't running an one-man show, and she'd bet Leviathan that Ethan was part of the administrative corps and not cannon fodder.

Spinning a shuriken on one finger was an unfortunate time to remember that she didn't _have_ Leviathan anymore. As she swore – both at herself and the direction of her thoughts – the weapon plummeted, but before it could slice through her borrowed shoes, a hand shot out and caught the weapon.

"Careful. That's expensive."

"It shouldn't be. It's weighted wrong," she sniped, peering around the dark brown bangs of the young man in front of her in an attempt to see his face. "You shouldn't sell pieces of tourist junk like that."

Standing, he returned the shuriken to its place on the wall. "Oh, I highly doubt you're an expert. In the meanwhile, it's my name above the door, and not yours."

"_You're_ Matthias?" Yuffie said, her eyes widening. "I thought you'd be…"

"Older?" he asked, a smile curving his lips.

"Nicer," she teased, grabbing a smaller shuriken from the wall and tossing it playfully.

"I sell weapons, girl. 'Nice' is a hazard in my line of work."

"True," she considered, catching the shuriken and looking at it closely. "I'll take this one."

He couldn't hide his look of surprise in time; oh, she smirked. "You've got good taste," Matthias said. "That one's not a replica. It's the real article."

"I know. Shake would hunt down and kill anyone who made replicas of his work," Yuffie snorted. As the implications of her statement sunk in, she blanched. He'd figured it out, too. "Oh, _shit._"

"_You're_ the missing princess?" Matthias gasped.

Yuffie winced, stepping forward to clap a hand over his mouth. "Not so loud, damnit!" After a few awkward seconds of standing so, she stepped back, holding the shuriken in a ready position. "I don't want to kill you, but if I have to…"

Matthias sighed, transferring his weight from one leg to the other. "Kisaragi, as long as you pay for that ninja star of yours, you could be Sephiroth incarnate and I'd let you walk out that door. I just thought you'd be…"

"Taller?" she quipped, hoping she didn't have to kill him. Guys with a sense of humour seemed to be a rare model these days…

"More princess-like, actually, but taller works. You are kind of short." Warming to the game, Matthias moved to his registry book.

Following him, Yuffie grinned. "I'm a fugitive. Being snooty's a hazard to my lifestyle. Not to mention," she added, dropping her voice confidentially, "I can't fight in _skirts."_ Plunking the gil that Gran had lent her on the desk, Yuffie picked up the shuriken as Matthias entered the sale into his book. "A Twin Viper," she murmured. "It's been a while since I've worked with one of these. Ah well," Yuffie added, spinning it as she turned, "I'll remember soon enough. Um, thanks, Matthias. See ya…"

"No – no prob – hey, wait a second!"

To Yuffie's not-quite-surprise, the next sound she heard was that of a bullet hitting the left side of the doorframe.

"Drop those little shuriken _right now_ or I'll shoot them out of your bag. I said I'd let you walk out; I didn't say I'd let you walk out with free merchandise."

Yuffie pouted. "You're not _that_ good." Spinning around petulantly, she plunked four miniature shuriken onto the desk. "But this is Gran's bag, so I won't test you. Besides, I was liberating them. Better these babies see some use than just gather dust on your wall…"

"It's a good argument," he conceded, "but they're still not free." Quickly gathering the miniature throwing stars, Matthias shook his head. "Still, you know where to find me if you need more weaponry or anything. Just make sure you bring the gil for it, Kisaragi. I _am _that good."

"Sure thing," she chuckled. At the door, Yuffie looked from the bullet hole back to the young man still standing at the counter. "Hey?" she queried. "Would you mind… kinda not telling anyone I was here?"

His face was the picture of innocence. "Who would I call?"

At the door, Yuffie twisted and sent two miniature shuriken whirling towards Matthias. Each whispering past his head, they impacted the wall solidly. "I mean it," she added, smirking at the wisps of dark brown hair drifting to the floor.

His expression deadpan, Matthias nodded. "So did I. Next time, try not to take off hair when you do that. It hurt."

Yuffie didn't reply; a girlish laugh and the clang of the bell above the shop door were the only signs that she had left.

Looking over at the communications device on the desk, Matthias sighed. "Sorry, Reeve," he said. "She asked nicely. But she doesn't know yet. You'll hear from us soon enough."

_. o ._

"Gran?" Yuffie called, entering the darkened house. "Priscilla – you there? I came to say…" But the look on Adrian's face as Yuffie came into the kitchen was enough to freeze the ninja girl in her tracks. "What _happened? _Gran?" Taking the letter from Gran's carefully steady hand, Yuffie bit her lip.

_I have taken the girl,_ it read. _We can't have too many of _your _kind wandering around, after all. Don't worry your silly little head, Miss Kisaragi; I haven't harmed her any more than I did you. Yet._

At this, Yuffie's free hand became a fist. "_Leviathan, _how?" she cursed. "I saw the ship sink with my own eyes...and he…"

"Keep reading… please." Adrian's eyes were cold. "We never should have let you stay – the risks were too large, considering the type of … people… that are chasing you. And now our grand-daughter is caught in the hands of a madman, who could be doing anything to her. _Anything._ She's a mere child, and you've pulled her into your game…"

"Adrian, please," Gran interrupted. "Let the girl finish." Wrapping her arms around her husband, she sent a weary look to Yuffie, who had tensed at the older man's accusation. "I'm sorry, Yuffie," Gran said, gesturing towards the letter in Yuffie's hand.

So she continued, eyes skimming the page. _No doubt the elder couple who took you in after that beast of yours trashed my ship – I'll be billing your father for damages, I'll have you know – are worried sick for their little girl. I can't say I blame them. But as I am hardly a heartless man, I propose a trade; you shall take her place, and I shall return her to her caretakers intact. I shall contact you later with the details of the exchange, which you truly have no other option _but _to accept. In the meanwhile, run all you like, Kisaragi. I will find you._

The note had no signature. It didn't need one. "Ethan," Yuffie hissed. Looking across the table to Gran and Adrian, she nodded soberly. "He thinks he's got me cornered," she said, straining to keep her tone calm. "I'll show _him_. I'll get Priscilla back for you. He's gonna wish when I'm done with him that he sunk with that blasted ship." Taking a seat, she chewed at her lip in thought. "I'm gonna need backup. And more shuriken."

"And a _plan_, Yuffie," Gran urged.

Smiling sheepishly, Yuffie nodded. "Yeah, that too." Pulling some paper across the table to where she sat, Yuffie started to write. "So, this is what I'm thinking…"

_. o ._

It was a pity that 'Jin' was only a persona, Reno mused; as the brunet sailor, Strife was almost likeable. The man seemed to forget he was a hero, or had been – he was a better card shark than Elena, and that girl could fleece Tseng some days…

Reno was sure that this wary truce would end the second he told of Yuffie's abduction, but he enjoyed the peaceful moment nonetheless, confidently flipping down his cards. Chang shook his head as Reno's full house was revealed. It topped his two pair.

"I'm beat," Chang said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back. "Jin? Can you avenge your Captain's defeat?"

With a decidedly villainous grin, "Jin" laid down his cards. Four tens.

"Son of a…" Reno swore. He was _sure_ that he'd shuffled better than that.

"She wasn't, I assure you." Grinning still, Cloud pulled over the pile of chips. "Can't say the same for yours, Fraser."

Reno returned the smile, his lips curving into a smirk. "I hate to disappoint, but my old lady was definitely human. No chocobo blood in me, not one drop." Knocking back the last of his gin and tonic, Reno mimicked Chang's relaxed pose.

Cloud stuttered. "Chocobo?"

"With hair like yours, Strife? C'mon. What else?"

Before Cloud could reply, however, Chang's hand went to the dagger at his side, and he eyed the two men warily. "_Strife_?" he asked carefully, looking first at Reno, who had the presence of mind to at least feign penitence, and then to his shipmate, whose expression had gone considerably darker. "No, no, let me guess. As in Cloud Strife."

"Unfortunately," Cloud returned sullenly. Taking in the perplexed expressions of both Reno and Chang, he sighed. "Look. I still get mobbed going to the item shop, for Ifrit's sake. As Jin? I even fooled you, Captain. But," he shrugged, taking another swig of his drink, "didn't you say as long as those who man the Murasaki were good hands, and didn't do anything to shame her or you, the past was the past?"

"I did," Chang admitted, his hand still at the dagger's hilt. "And it holds. I won't say I'm not curious as to why you of all people are here, though."

Nodding, Cloud took another drink and started to deal the cards. "I'm just another sailor here, really. The ocean has such a long memory that I don't even cause a ripple, and it's nice to be treated like an ordinary guy. I'm not too used to that."

Reno snorted. "And just _when_ did you gain a personality, Strife?"

Cloud bristled, but after a moment, relaxed and smiled sadly. "Another one, you mean?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah." Reno was curious, too. Cloud had saved the Planet from someone even he could call crazy, been rewarded handsomely, and ended up with Tifa-frickin'-Lockheart. Most guys he knew would kill for any one of those things, and here was Strife, running from all three…

"Well," Cloud began, "really, what's one more mask? You know my story probably better than I do, Reno. Jin is just another disguise; something you should know plenty about, too. You're not wearing that damned blue suit, I've dyed my hair…" He eyed Reno speculatively, and continued. "It's funny, though…"

"What's funny?" Chang asked, looking up from sorting his hand.

"It's just I thought all you Turks never took off those suits. Yours certainly had that slept-in look, Reno."

The redhead fixed Cloud with a withering look. "So I'm told. But you've been out of the loop, all right. Reeve disbanded the Turks about half a year ago."

"Ah." Passing two cards to Chang, Cloud asked, "what brings you to Wutai, then? Seems a long way for a holiday…"

Grinning lazily and gesturing for one card from the deck, he replied. "I went to Wutai on holiday, Strife. An enviable location, until one of your little friends cut it short."

The grip that Cloud had on his cards became noticeably forceful. "Yuffie?" Cloud asked. "I swear, Reno, if you harmed one hair… she's just a kid, for Planet's sake."

This was not going to go over well, Reno noted, but his voice was steady. "She's been kidnapped, Strife. And no," he continued quickly, "not by me. I never touched her. Your stick princess doesn't interest me."

It was clear that Cloud hadn't heard the last part as he rose to his feet unsteadily, poker chips clattering to the floor. "You _let_ this happen?" he asked, furious.

"Whoa there, soldier. She's not my friend, and I was damned near-unconscious when it happened. Besides, if I could have done anything, I would have. Laney's going to kill me already for breaking her gift; letting her friend get abducted right in front of me isn't going to win me any more points…" Holding up his broken watch piteously, Reno finished.

"So that's why you wanted to stowaway, then," Chang noted. "You Turks never go anywhere without that helicopter if you can help it, and I have to admit I wondered where it – and your compatriots – were when you showed up. _And_, naturally, this would be _Princess_ Yuffie Kisaragi we're speaking of, correct?"

Nods from the other two at the table were his only response.

"Neither of you do anything by halves, do you?" Both Reno and Cloud shook their heads, the former barely hiding his amusement. Throwing up his hands in defeat, Chang smiled. "That's enough for this seadog for one night. Reno?"

"Yes?"

"Toss over that watch of yours, and I'll look at it in the morning. I'm decent with mechanics, and it will save your lady friend a lecture."

"Thanks, I think," Reno replied, passing the captain his watch.

"Don't be too quick to thank me," Chang said, his eyes twinkling merrily. "You're on grub duty tomorrow morning." With that, Chang pushed his chair in and stood.

"Berth's in that corner, blankets in the cupboard behind you. If we keep sailing at this rate, we should make Junon by tomorrow morning."

After the captain had left the room, Reno winced. "Grub?"

"Not worms, Reno. Breakfast."

"That's exactly what I mean, Strife. I can't cook to save my life."

Much to Reno's chagrin, however, Cloud didn't seem fazed. "Not my problem."

"You have to eat it, don't you?"

Cloud only grinned, patting his stomach. "Iron stomach. All thanks to half a year of Aeris' cooking – Planet rest her, she was a sweet girl – but she could burn anything."

"Huh," Reno replied. "Never would've guessed."

"Yeah, well…" Cloud trailed off momentarily. "Anyhow, breakfast's at 6. I'd recommend sleeping if you want to get any rest beforehand." Stretching, he added, "I should get some shut-eye, too."

"You don't want to trade?"

A slammed door and the subsequent off-key whistling of one Cloud Strife as he walked away was his only response. Reno sighed. "Figures…"

_. o ._

The nextmorning came far, far too soon for Reno Fraser.

…_And then there's Elena, _Reno thought, stumbling down the corridor to the mess hall, _who is going to be mad enough about the watch alone_… Deciding to avoid further contact with her until he knew a little more about where Yuffie might have gone, Reno cast his thoughts back to the night of Yuffie's abduction…and stopped at Ethan Ypres. _His_ was a name that was unfortunately hard to forget; Reno swore that the banshee from the inn had permanently damaged his ears when she had screeched it into her communicator. He probably should have killed that girl then, but something had stayed his hand.

Right. Kisaragi. _Yuffie_. Princess. He had to find that girl; that was more important at the time. Still _was,_ though he didn't especially want to think of why. Tossing vegetables into the pan along with a half-dozen eggs and stirring it absently, Reno sighed. Of course, he fully intended to kill Yuffie eventually for stealing his materia – Ypres had better not have beat him to it.

_Damn_, he hoped that she was still okay… he wasn't convinced that Ethan wouldn't just consider her death an eye for an eye.

Reno then realized why he knew that name, and why Ethan's words were so revenge-driven back at the Wutaian inn.

Ethan's fiancée had been the last job that he and Tseng had taken before the debacle with AVALANCHE had begun. She'd belonged to a fellow rebel group, similar to but lacking AVALANCHE's stubbornness and sheer luck, but she – Sienne, her name had been – had been a decent fighter; she'd dislocated his shoulder with her quarterstaff, but with her weapon down, Tseng had a clear shot.

He'd never seen Tseng miss, and this was no exception.

There had been something about a rich, protective fiancé in her file, but in those days, there was no-one that Shinra couldn't buy out.

_Touching,_ Reno smirked. _Run out of money and now you're out for our blood? You should **really** know better, Ypres. It still… it still doesn't explain what you want with _Yuffie_, though. You haven't done your homework if you think the Turks and AVALANCHE get along…_

…Except Reno had just been concocting an unnecessarily elaborate plan for breaking Yuffie out of whatever nefarious prison Ypres had imprisoned her within.

"_Damn,_" Reno cursed as the scent of breakfast pierced his thoughts. Sighing, he looked dolefully at the pan of eggs and vegetables that were now burning on the stove, unable to fight the smile that the thought of her seemed to provoke. "Damn you, Princess…"

_. o ._

…_TBC…_

_. o ._

* * *

**_Disclaimer:_** Jaden Ono, Sabrina Shikibu, Ethan Ypres, Sienne, Grania and Adrian Stasny, Candace, and Matthias are mine. So's the plotline. Channelling now seems _really_ similar to the SHM's trick in _Advent Children_, but this story still runs AU from said sequel. Other than that, everyone else still belongs to Square.

**_Sabe's_** **_Scribbles:_** Writing some characters becomes a homecoming, after a separation like this one. I think I can say with confidence that I've found my feet where this story is concerned, and now that we're getting to the good part… Let's say Christmas for the next installation.

Thank you so, so much to everyone who has read, enjoyed, and/or reviewed this story; you've been wonderful encouragement in the writing process, and your kind words mean a lot. That said, Matthias needs a last name. Any takers?

Cheers, all. Thoughts and comments, as always, are appreciated!


	10. Stormwarning

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Ten: **Stormwarning

_. o ._

Cloud was the first to arrive in the mess hall that Reno recognized. The redhead had stuffed his hair underneath a cap at Captain Kale's request the night before, and Cloud sent him a puzzled glance as he wove his way towards the stove. Rolling his eyes, Reno sighed. He had intended to ignore the captain's request, but that headache of a girl was still on his mind, and the last thing Reno needed this morning was some searat recognizing him and picking a fight.

"Mornin', Strife." Smiling wickedly, the redhead poked at what Cloud could only guess was supposed to be a scrambled omelette. "Grub?"

"It's burnt."

"It's breakfast."

Cloud grumbled, but spooned some of the eggs onto his plate. "Are you absolutely certain that you weren't related to Aeris?"

Reno mumbled something that could have been _no, but she taught me how to cook, once_. _That_ got Cloud's attention, but Reno ignored him. _Some memories_, Reno thought, _deserve more than to be discussed over a breakfast line._ Turning to the second mate who had returned inexplicably for seconds, Reno answered the sailor's question with a lopsided smile.

Cloud turned and found an empty spot on the closest bench, filing the redhead's quip with the thousands of others that coiled at the back of his mind. _It figured_, he mused. _Two years later, disguised and half the world away from everything and everyone who the world expected me to be, or be with, everything's still so… _tangled, _isn't it? _The image of an adolescent Aeris rapping an equally young Reno's knuckles away from a bowl of cookie batter flashed through his thoughts, unasked, and he held his head at the sudden jolt. _That one didn't feel like mine,_ Cloud sighed. _I know I sure as hell never witnessed **that.**_ _Could be true, what he said, then… _As he watched Chang enter the mess hall, Cloud dismissed his thoughts and moved towards the door. "Something wrong, Captain?"

Unclenching his fists, the captain swore. "I don't know what sort of shit that Turk stirred up during his time in Wutai, Ji—" Cutting his words short, he looked over at Cloud.

"Jin." Cloud nodded in confirmation. "Please, Kale. I don't want you to forget what you learned, but at least in general hearing…"

"Sure. _Jin,_ we're being turned away from Junon. All ships with Wutai as their most recent port are, and it doesn't sound like that'll be changing anytime soon. From what little I got from the _Constance_ when we passed Costa last night, it sounds like Junon and Wutai are bristling over a media war about a missing princess, whose gear and clothes washed up in Junon two mornings ago all torn up. She's supposed to be some sort of superhuman… I didn't catch much of that, but scientific jargon has never been my forte." At Cloud's dark look, the captain held out his hands slowly. "Don't even think of starting a brawl, Jin. Not on my ship. _Definitely_ not before I've eaten breakfast." Wrinkling his nose, Kale grimaced. "It doesn't smell like breakfast, though – did the Turk burn the kitchen down?"

Cloud's tone was hopeful. "Can I beat the hell out of him if he _did?_"

Brushing past his subordinate, the captain hid his grin. "Tempting, but no. That said – cabin, ten-hundred hours, Jin. Bring the Turk, if the others haven't keelhauled him for trying to poison them."

_. o ._

Strolling along the deck after breakfast behind a tense Cloud Strife, Reno whistled a cheerful tune, grinning to himself as the other man muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _will not beat him up on the ship, will not, will not, will not…_

Reno, for one, didn't see the use in being all worried and uptight – sure, he was a little concerned about Yuffie; truth be told, he was more guilty than anything. Reno wasn't used to feeling guilty over _anything_, and he didn't like the feeling. But facts were facts – if she hadn't come back, or maybe if he hadn't been stumbling-down drunk in the first place, maybe she wouldn't be missing right now. Reno's hand traced the red sphere on his arm guard that was hers: Leviathan, her birthright… it hadn't reacted at all, so Yuffie couldn't be dead. Reno was sure of it. He didn't want to think about why he was so certain. He just _was_, and that was that.

In short, he reasoned, he was trapped on a boat and couldn't do anything productive about Yuffie's disappearance until the captain returned his watch. Ducking around the cabin door, catching it as Cloud let it swing back violently, Reno resisted the urge to strike back at the disgruntled brunet. Instead, the redhead settled himself onto a bench along the wall, grinning as the captain passed him his watch, which he had managed to repair after all. "Hey, thanks."

"Good to see you're still with us, Turk." Leaning against the windowsill, the captain nodded back. "I was worried the sailors would kill you for that breakfast you made."

"I was distracted, I guess. I warned you I wasn't a chef."

**_Was_** _the Turk blushing? _Cloud wasn't sure, but he didn't like where that thought led – distracted probably involved Yuffie, and while he had every bit of faith in the little ninja girl, he knew her well enough to have a healthy respect for her tendency for getting into situations way over her head. _I can spare the Captain this discussion,_ Cloud decided. _It doesn't mean I'm going to let this slide. _"You warned _me_, Reno," Cloud spoke up. "It wasn't so bad, though. None of the rest of us can cook, really."

"None of the rest of us has the protection of your iron-coated stomach, either." Frowning, Kale Chang pulled a scrap of paper from one his jacket pockets. "That said, there are more important matters at hand, which is why I've called you two here. I contacted the harbour just west of Neo-Midgar, and we're able to dock there. I'm not sure how we're supposed to get our cargo from Midgar to Junon, or how I'm to pay fifteen sailors for the other half of their work when we _can't_ deliver the cargo, though."

Reno looked up from fiddling with the rim of his watch. "I think I can help you with those things, Captain."

"You?" Cloud retorted. "_Help?_ I think not. I mean, you -"

"Actually," Chang interrupted, "I'm interested to hear what you can do. We've a dearth of options at the moment, so whatever this stowaway is willing to do to pay for his passage, particularly if it can help me get the cargo to Junon on time, I'm not willing to dismiss as quickly as you do." Steepling his fingers together, the captain turned to Reno. "So. What do you propose, Turk?"

Slouching against the wall, Reno scratched at his stomach. "You could say I have friends in all the right places. While it's true that Reeve disbanded the Turks, I might be able to call in a favour from the ol' Boss-Man for you. As long as your crew is willing to work in construction for a few days—"

The captain nodded, catching on. "Provided I can keep two or three of my crew to travel to Junon with the cargo and myself, I doubt it will be a problem, Reno." Scratching at his chin, he continued. "Actually, we have a welder, and a couple of carpenters on the crew who have family in Neo-Midgar; they'll probably be happy to be home for the festival."

"I'll tell that to Reeve. From what it was like when I left, I think the city will take all the help it can get." Spinning the ring around the face of his watch, Reno smiled as the bevelled face split and slid back, revealing a tiny video screen.

As the redhead spoke into his watch, Cloud spoke up. "If possible, Captain, I would like to go to Junon with you and the shipment."

"If you're certain that's where you'd like to be, I can always use a good hand. _Are_ you certain, Cloud? The Kisaragi girl traveled with you, and from a purely objective standpoint, it looks as if you are entrusting her immediate recovery to an ex-Turk." Drumming his fingers against the window ledge, Chang looked over at the brunet sailor.

Cloud looked over at Reno, who had entered into a playful argument with the people on the other side of the camera. Running a hand through his hair, Cloud tried a smile. "By traveling to Junon in disguise, I can probably learn about Yuffie and this trouble she's in – more than I ever could if I went as myself. Besides, Vincent Valentine was a Turk, once, and I trusted him with my life. Maybe – and this is just a _maybe_, Captain; don't look so damn shocked – Vincent might not be the only Turk worth giving a second chance to."

_. o ._

"…that is, if you wouldn't mind."

Tifa laughed warmly, and assured him that she didn't. She was glad for Reeve's sake that he was on the other side of a phone connection and not the other side of the room. The man could engineer a city, rally its people with surprising charisma, systematically betray the single largest corporation on the Planet, send his avatar-child to a heroic death, and yet she could almost see his blush.

"I don't mean to impose, Tifa, but I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to the Midwinter festivities – the Mayor is kind of expected to bring someone along, and I had hoped… I can't promise the speeches will keep you awake, but the food is always excellent, and there's dancing…"

She could feel his chuckle, a warm timbre that somehow managed to resonate through her, curving her own lips into a smile. "Dancing's fine, Reeve. I'm not much of a dancer, though. Two left feet."

Although he tried to cover it with a cough, she caught the grunt he made in surprise. "From the way you fight, one would never know it; you're a beautiful fighter, Tifa. I had thought you would know how to dance, what with footwork like yours."

His confession caught her in mid-motion as she rifled through her new closet, straightening everything into a semblance of order. Clutching the phone a little tighter, Tifa's reply was carefully curious. "Were you _watching_ me, Reeve Vanh?"

She had to give him credit; he didn't pause. "Only sometimes - I have a life too, Miss Lockheart. And _you_ are not answering my question."

Pulling the last of her clothes from her duffel bag, Tifa's fingers froze on a dress the hue of a summer sky, almost dropping the phone. Now, why in Shiva's name had she packed _that_? She thought she had thrown it away years ago, and she certainly didn't remember packing it. She had danced when she'd worn it last. Not well, but it had been their party: she'd been young, triumphant, and running on endorphins, so it hadn't mattered. Dropping the dress, she cursed. Memory was a cruel mistress. Tifa had bought the dress to match his eyes, thinking he'd be flattered. She should have known that he wouldn't even _notice._

"Tifa - _Tifa_? Hello? Are you all right?" The playfulness had dropped out of Reeve's tone. Funny that even over the phone, he – this almost-stranger – could judge her moods, whereas… _No_. She wasn't going to go there.

"I'm just a little winded, Reeve." Steadying herself on the table's edge, she breathed deeply, only to catch a teasing glimpse of the blue gossamer. "You want to know why I don't know how to dance?" Ice cooled her tone, though she knew it wasn't his fault, not professional, charming Reeve. But in that moment, still exhausted from the drive and frightened by her friend's disappearance, she didn't care.

He wasn't fazed, as Cloud might have been. He'd been yelled at by the best. Tifa at her worst couldn't compare to Scarlet on an average day before her morning coffee or after she'd shared an elevator with Cornelius Palmer. "I do."

"I never had anyone to dance with," she snapped. "Are you surprised, Reeve? Tifa Lockheart, the bombshell, the knockout, the blasted Planet-saviour never had a guy ask her to a dance."

_Careful, now…_ "I am asking you." As long as she didn't laugh, he'd be fine, he thought - he could take anything but her laughter.

She _did_ laugh; light and lilting, and a corner of his heart broke until he realized her laughter was warm. "I'd like that, I think." After a moment – _breathe, girl; breathe – _Tifa stood. Picking up the beautiful dress that had taken up a third of her largest bag, she cradled it in her arms, walking across the room. She proceeded to toss the dress out the seventh story window of her brand-new apartment.

"…pick you up at seven that night, then?"

Leaning against the windowsill, Tifa's gaze chased the horizon; barely visible around the building frames and massive cranes, but it was still there. A refusal almost bubbled across her lips; reactionary – he'd hardly been the first to try – but she bit her lip. _Maybe…_ "See you then."

Tifa walked across the small room, picking up her bag, keys, and a light jacket. It was high time she stopped chasing the intangible.

More importantly, she had a dress to buy.

_. o ._

It was late afternoon by the time that the _Lady Murasaki_ docked along the northern ridge of the Eastern Continent; walking out on the ship's deck, Reno was relieved to see that Reeve had beat them to the harbour.

Leaning on the railing, Cloud sighed. "It'll be nice to be back on solid ground."

"Hey, that's right. Your Shinra file said you were prone to motion sickness. How do you hack a sailor's life, anyways?" At Cloud's expression, Reno backpedaled. "Laney told me about that, back in the day – girl reads everything she can get her hands on."

"Ginger pills," Cloud replied. "One of the others recommended them – other than that, I guess I just move around as much as I can to keep my mind off of it. I was never that bad, though; Yuffie had it way worse than me. Her skin went as green as that old shirt of hers, one time – I'd thought I'd seen everything, but she's got a way of constantly proving you wrong." Here he paused, looking anywhere but at the redhead beside him. "I guess I'm warning you on that count."

Surprised, Reno kept his tone neutral. "Warning acknowledged, Strife – I just wish you'd been a little earlier with it."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Reno."

The redhead's look was pure _do I ever?,_ but he laughed, clapping the brunet on the shoulder. "I'll do my best. I'm no hero, Strife…"

"_That_ much, I know. I don't need to warn you that if you hurt her at all…"

"Hey, _hey._ I'm trying to help the girl out – that's all there is to it –" At Cloud's doubtful look, Reno chuckled. "Well, that, and she took something of mine that I kinda want back."

Cloud snorted, brushing Reno's hand away. "Reno, you burnt our breakfast this morning 'cause you were thinking about her. So unless you're talking about Yuffie stealing whatever kind of heart you have, I call bull."

His fist snapping out to glance off of Cloud's shoulder, Reno shuffled back. "It's not like that, ya know." Noticing that Cloud hadn't grabbed any weapon or retaliated, he added, "…wait, you're not going to kill me?"

"If I did, Yuffie'd probably find me and kill me, so, _no._ She's not a kid – she can fall for whoever she wants to, though I gotta wonder at her taste a little. Well, that, and the Captain doesn't condone fighting on the ship."

"Scaredy-cat."

"_Hey._"

Ambling over, Chang sighed as he intercepted the two. "Turk, the mayor of Neo-Midgar's on the radio – he wants to talk to you. Jin, I could use your help with the cargo."

As Cloud headed for the stairs to go below deck to the cargo hold, he turned around. "Hey, Reno. Don't mention to anyone you saw me."

"Ya know, you're gonna have to owe me one for that, Strife." Grinning wickedly, Reno pushed off from the railing. "Hey – I kinda like the way that sounds. But, yeah, sure."

"Thanks, I think."

This time, it was Reno's turn to walk away chuckling.

_. o ._

After helping to move the first few boxes into the trucks that Reeve had brought along, Reno thanked the Captain with a lazy smile and moved to pounce on Elena, ruffling the younger woman's hair as she shouted in useless protest. As fate would have it, it was fortunate that Strife had asked him to stay quiet – although the ex-SOLDIER did his best to keep out of both Elena and Reeve's lines of sight, Reeve had always been the observant sort.

"Say, Reno?" Reeve asked.

"Yeah?"

"Isn't that sailor – that one over there – doesn't he look like –" Shaking his head, Reeve rubbed his eyes. "Never mind. I thought he resembled someone I used to know."

Watching Cloud help carry the last crate into the freight truck, Reno hid his grin. "Boss-man, you don't get enough sleep."

Reeve groaned. "You don't work for me anymore, Reno. You could drop the nickname."

"Nah." Laughing, Reno slung a companionate arm around the businessman's shoulders, grateful to be away from the sea and among friends. Reaching forward to ruffle Elena's hair again – the young woman had spun around in the driver's seat of the sedan as they stepped inside, and was clearly torn between tackling or beaming at Reno in return – the redhead turned to Reeve. "Now, what was this you were suggesting to me about going _back_ to Wutai?"

_. o ._

…_to be continued…_

_. o ._

**_Sabe's Scribbles:_ **…to be continued a _lot_ sooner than a year from now. (I know, I keep saying that, but a combination between school, life, and story continuity kept me on my toes.) I can't thank everyone enough for reading (and hopefully enjoying) _Believe_ thus far – thanks for passing on your words of encouragement. There were a few anonymous reviews this time around, and I just wanted to express how much they meant here, as I couldn't contact you any other way. Honestly – _thank you._

**_Disclaimer:_** While the plotline is of my own devising, and any of the characters you don't recognize somehow escaped from the winding hallways of my imagination, Cloud, Reno, and crew (along with the world itself) are the proud possessions of the company known as Square.


	11. The Handbook

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**Part Eleven: The Handbook**

* * *

Evening came and went, and save to the knowledge of a scattered handful of people, the location of the princess Yuffie Kisaragi remained very much unknown. Reno and Reeve flew to Wutai in hopes of gaining the cooperation of its leader, leaving the reins of Neo-Midgar and the care of the visiting Tifa Lockheart to Rude and Elena. Within two hours of landing, however, the ex-Turk and the Mayor found themselves disgruntled, dusty, and barred from entering even the lowest level of Wutai's Imperial Pagoda.

As they turned away from the diplomatic centre of the city, a voice called to them from the porch of the Turtle's Paradise. "Hey – Turk!"

Reno whipped around. He recognized that voice: it was the kid bartender from his _last_ ill-fated visit to Wutai. Reno turned back to Reeve and nodded as Jaden waved them towards the porch. "'S okay, Boss-Man. He's one of the Princess' friends."

"Oh," Reeve replied. "Befriending the locals, Reno? It's hardly your usual style."

"Nah," Reno shrugged. "He knows something about her that we don't, I bet. Besides, the kid mixes a killer gin and tonic, which is a favourite poison of yours, isn't it?"

"It is two o'clock_ in the afternoon, _Reno."

"So I'll tell him you'll wait on the street?"

Reeve sighed. "Gin and tonic, you say? Perhaps just one." Ignoring Reno's amused snort, Reeve dusted his jacket off and surprised the redhead by beating him through the doors of the bar. Settling on one of the bar stools, Reeve surveyed the room. It had been ages since he'd been to the Turtle, but he could swear that the establishment hadn't changed, save for the addition of a garish red jukebox against the far wall.

"It was a gift from Yuffie," Jaden said, smiling as Reeve spun around. "The jukebox, that is. She snuck in one night and Leviathan only knows how she did it, but she'd bolted it to the floor by the time the morning staff came in."

Reno laughed from where he'd settled on the chair next to Reeve's. "Damn – sounds just like the kinda stunt she'd pull."

Jaden's eyes narrowed. "I see she got _you_ home safe, Turk."

Reno cracked his knuckles against the bar. "I see I should be busting your kneecaps, kid. This's all your fault, isn't it?"

Reeve sighed and laid a hand on Reno's shoulder. The redhead looked like he was about to dive across the bar and throttle the bartender, and as _that_ would be counterproductive at best… "I understand Yuffie was a friend of yours; I'm sorry for your loss."

"Loss?" Jaden asked, confused. "_Oh, _that's right. Actually, she's what I wanted to talk with you about. I should warn you that you'll probably want a drink first, though. Shiva knows I needed one."

"Helluva sales pitch," Reno grumbled.

"I _hear_," Reeve interjected, keeping his voice deliberately innocent, "that you mix a decent gin and tonic. Make it one for my petulant subordinate and one for myself, please."

Jaden nodded. "Good choice," he said, reaching for a tall blue bottle. "The first thing is something that we all probably knew already – Yuff's about as hard to kill off as a particularly stubborn Marlboro, no matter what the papers have said."

Hope caught in Reno's chest – he'd _known_ all along, but this kid was sure making him feel like less of a fool. "So you're sayin' -"

"I'm saying," Jaden replied, lining up the glasses, "that she's still alive. Or that she was four days ago. I spoke with her and she sounded shaken up, but pretty okay. Better than I'd sound. I think she actually said – around a mouthful of one – that she'd just finished eating the best chocolate chip cookies known to man and I knew then that she couldn't have run away with you, Turk."

Reno choked on his drink.

Reeve smiled, storing the sight of Reno's expression away for future reflection and breathing a little easier at the bartender's admission. _So Matthias had been right… _"Where _is_ the illustrious ninja, then?"

Jaden leant closer as he swiped at the bar-top with an old cloth, casting a careful eye around even although the room appeared otherwise empty. _This is Wutai_, he thought, a wry smile twisting his lips. _In a culture where subterfuge is taught along with the alphabet, it never hurts to be careful_. "She called just after the story hit the papers for the first time. She'd washed up in Junon, she said, and said something about a girl: Presea or Pansy or something, and dolphins – I didn't really catch that part – but she might've moved on since then. She probably has. Even when Yuffie doesn't have a price on her head, she's not much for staying in one place for long."

"So, kid," Reno drawled, "if you knew where she was, didn't you think it might've been wise to let, oh, say, her _father_ know?"

"I tried. It didn't work," Jaden insisted. He hurled his rag and frowned as it fell into a pail at the end of the bar. "_Dammit,_ I tried, but Lord Godo already disapproves of me for my employment – he hates that his princess spends her time cavorting around the countryside and sprawling in bars with Junonite half-breeds – his words, Mr. Mayor – and that she spills tea on visitors when he knows she perfected the tea ceremony when she was _six._ So when he heard from Sabrina that it was my fault the two of you were together in the first place… well, I was lucky to walk out of the Imperial Pagoda unharmed."

Reeve nodded carefully. "As good as it is to hear she is safe, why tell us this now? We have not even been granted an audience with Lord Godo, and it is unlikely that he will consider what you have told us without more concrete evidence."

Reno clinked his empty glass against the bar. "Could be that's the goal of the bastards who set this up – I sure's hell wouldn't put this past Ypres. It doesn't really strike me as his style, but whoever he's working under is creatin' one hell of a cat-and-mouse game. Besides, that Sabrina chick is Ypres' toy. She's the one who knocked out Yuffie – damn dirty shot, too, 'cause the Princess was beating Ypres into the ground before that so-called _friend_ of hers took a cheap shot from the door."

"I see," Reeve sighed. "It isn't going to be easy to get this across to Lord Godo, even with my status, Reno."

"Dammit," Jaden cursed. "Weren't you guys _running _the world two years ago? Bust in there. _Do something_. Please, I'm asking you – for her sake, not mine – you don't know me and hell, Turk, I know you don't trust me, and that's fine. Lord Godo is a good ruler, but if whoever is behind this is intending to divide our forces, you must make him listen."

Reeve ignored Reno's snort of "our _forces_, kid?" and nodded, swirling the ice around his glass. "We will try to negotiate further with your information in mind; it can't hurt, I suppose."

"It _is_ why we're here, ya know," the redhead drawled. "That, and that trade-agreement thing 'Laney mentioned – that too. I could do with bustin' up a skull or two in the process, though."

"You'll find them particularly hard-headed over there," Jaden muttered. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Indeed so," Reeve said, buttoning his coat. "But business _is_ business, I'm afraid. Thank you for the drink, ah –"

"It's Jaden, and you're welcome." He wiped his hands on his apron and offered one to the mayor, who shook it firmly. Nodding, Jaden ran a hand through his hair. "I hope you two have better luck this time."

Reno patted his holster and waved. "We will, trust me. That's for damn sure." With a smile that was more a flash of teeth, the redhead turned to leave. "C'mon, Boss-Man."

Reeve sighed, but followed Reno out. "I honestly wish that you'd stop calling me that."

_. o ._

After ten minutes had passed in failed negotiation with the doormen at the imperial Pagoda, Reno's patience expired. "Oh, to _Hades_ with it," he cursed. When he glanced at Reeve, Reno was heartened by his old supervisor's nod. He supposed the approval shouldn't have mattered either way, but the support of at least _one_ person in the area couldn't hurt. "Look," Reno continued, pulling back his sleeve to reveal his gauntlet and the red sphere set into it. "That there is one-hundred-percent concentrated badass water dragon."

The guards whose naginata were crossed in front of the two Midgarians frowned, and the taller guard of the pair spoke first. "You cannot mean such a thing."

Reno's smile grew. "You _bet_ I do. Yeah, this is _your_ badass water dragon, but _I'm_ the one holding onto it, so why don't ya both shut up and let us in? Unless," he grinned, "you _want_ to explain to Kisaragi Senior why you washed into his throne room with your ugly skirts around your ears. We need to talk to the Almighty Ruler, and dammit, whatever he's doing better not be more important than tryin' to save his daughter's life."

The young Wutaian shifted in surprise.

Reno fitted the red sphere into the end of his nightstick. "Yeah, that's right. I'm not here to kill you, but I suggest you get the _hell_ out of my way. Our way," he amended, looking at Reeve.

"We are sorry," the second guard apologized, his arms tensing. "We have been given –"

"Your funeral," Reno raised his nightstick. "Never much liked orders anyway."

" – _please_, wait," the guard insisted. "If you will not leave and must resort to this, we will take you to a waiting room."

Letting out a tense breath, Reeve stepped forward. "I thank you for your kindness. It is, however, a matter of some importance...?"

With a wary look at Reno, the taller guard unlocked one half of the gate. "Your request is understood, sir Mayor. I will see what I can do."

Reeve sighed as he followed a jumpy attendant and a redhead all but spitting sparks through the winding hallways of the Pagoda. "This feels like a return to the old days, I'm sure."

"Nah," Reno chuckled. "In the old days, we probably would've just fought our way through whoever was dumb enough to bar our way without bothering to blather first."

"You can't mean it."

"Orders weren't optional, Reeve. If we were told to get an audience, we _got_ one."

Reeve paused. "Do you miss it? The job, I mean."

"Sometimes," Reno answered. "It helped that it _was_ work in those lean days; shit, it wasn't great, though the pay was, and the crew – they were family, kinda. Rude and 'Laney _are_ family; better than any I ever had as blood. So we reigned over Hades. So what? We weren't the only guns for hire; we were just the _best_ ones."

"Such humility," Reeve deadpanned.

Reno shrugged. "If it's true…"

The guard walking in front of them paused to open a door to his left. "Wait here, please. I will inform Lord Godo of your presence." Returning Reeve's nod with a deeper bow, he continued. "May I offer you – gentlemen – some tea?"

The guard's mouth was twisted into as much of a sneer as his position allowed, Reeve noticed, so he nodded at the tall Wutaian. "Thank you."

"Y'have anything real to drink?" Reno asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Not for the _individuals_ responsible for Lady Yuffie's disappearance, I am afraid," the guard returned with crisp civility. Nodding again to Reeve, he reached for the sliding door. "I will have one of the servants bring your tea, Mayor Vanh. If you will excuse me, I must return to my post."

Reno smirked as the door slid shut. "Ten gil says he's just gonna wait around the corner and see if we split."

"We are in their country," Reeve answered, rubbing at his temples. "It is our duty, Reno, to respect that."

Reno leant back into his cushion, but his right hand hovered over the handle of his nightstick. "It's _your_ job. Mine's to make sure you don't get shish-kabobbed, and maybe to give Yuffie's old man a piece of my mind."

The room fell into silence until a young woman in traditional Wutaian garb brought three teacups and a teapot into the room, setting it upon a low table and bowing herself out of the room without a word.

"I should hope you are here to return my daughter's birthright." True to his shinobi heritage, Godo Kisaragi had slipped into the room before either Midgarian had noticed, and smiled at the momentary unease on both of their faces as they spun around.

Reno recovered first. "I was actually hoping for a trade when I saw her next. You might've heard from the papers, but she kinda has something of mine. I'd give it to you, y'know, as a sign of good will, but I'd rather give it to her."

"Surely you don't think I am fooled that easily, Turk. I have it from a reliable source that you were the one who kidnapped my daughter."

"Lord Godo," Reeve intervened, sipping his tea, "I do not wish to disclaim your source, but we have received two coinciding reports that your daughter is in Junon and not under any sway of my associate."

"May I ask," Godo inquired, "whom these sources might be?"

"If you will do the honour of extending the same kindness, I do not see the trouble in doing so."

Reno was impressed. Reeve had always struck him as a bit of an easily flustered pushover. Aside from his eloquence and that stunt involving pulling the wool over old man Shinra's eyes and _living_, Reeve seemed to be a thoroughly average man. But _this_, Reno thought, was the man in his element. Reno had seen similar purpose in Tseng's eyes in the field and similar calculation in the set of Elena's jaw as she puzzled out mission tactics. For the first time all day (shoving Leviathan in that lackey's face didn't count, but _damn, it had felt great_) Reno felt confident that they might be able to gain the cooperation of the Wutaian leader.

"The first report," Reeve continued, "was from a contact in Junon, Matthias Grumio. He runs a weapons-shop in lower Junon, and I received notice that she had crossed his path early this morning. This report was supported by that of a bartender at the Turtle's Paradise this afternoon. A young man named Jaden told us in confidence that he had heard from your daughter four days ago."

Godo nodded, offering Reeve a small tray of fruit. "Ah, Ono's grandson. I have heard his report."

With that, the negotiations were underfoot. Reno let Reeve steer their side of the discussion, keeping one eye on his old colleague and the other on the environment. He'd meant what he said about knocking some sense into Lord Kisaragi, and from the sound of the discussion, the feeling seemed mutual. So he watched the room, memorizing details and the faces of the attendants as they came and went. _Yuffie_ was about as subtle as a Giant Mog dosed with Hyper spells, but if his old Turk missions were anything to go by, she was the exception to the rule.

However, Reno's silence became a curiosity as the meeting wore on, and the redhead's spine straightened as Godo Kisaragi's gaze shifted in his direction.

"There are some things I do not comprehend entirely," Godo began, looking from Reno to Reeve and back again. "The first among these is why, when you have insisted that Shinra's Turks have been disbanded, your manners are that of a leashed dog. Please rest assured that if I had wanted either of you eliminated, it would have already happened, so feel at ease to speak honestly." With an elaborate sweep of his arm and a glare that could have scratched steel, Godo continued. "But if you would please also speak swiftly; as you have already noted, my daughter and heir is at best in grave danger. At worst… Well. Surely you understand."

Reno pushed himself off of the cushions he'd sprawled against and began to pace the length of the negotiation room. Reeve began to speak, but the redhead interrupted. "No. This one's mine to answer, Boss."

Godo's expression hardened at the redhead's choice in address, and his eyes shifted to an ornate scroll painting that covered half of one of the walls. Before the Kisaragi could speak, Reno sighed, flicked the wrist that was holding his nightstick, and bit his lip to keep a sober expression as he walked back from the windowsill he had leaned against. "'S a nickname, Lord Godo; ya don't have to send your goon squad after me just yet. He'll confirm that I haven't been anywhere near Neo-Midgar other than to drop off a perfectly normal cargo shipment at any time over the past four months, and no search of the city's databases will show ya anything you're hinting at." Spinning around, Reno paced towards the wallscroll and lifted a corner of the parchment, using his free hand to wave jauntily at the pagoda guard scowling from behind a gold barrier of electric light. "Yup," Reno continued. "It's just a nickname. Old habits die hard, y'know?"

"So it appears," Godo replied, unfazed. "And yet you continue to avoid my question."

Pacing back to the window, Reno smiled. "I'd be wearing two summon Materia if I had her, y'see – that's if I wanted her. No disrespect, Lord Godo, but your daughter's a headache and a half. _But,_" he continued, looking out to the coast barely visible from his vantage point, "before killing me for insulting your flesh and blood, you should know that she's the sort of headache that'll fight hand-to-hand to save my life and put her own in the betting pool, and I've gotta admire her for it."

The Lord of Wutai choked on his tea.

Reeve muttered something that could have been _"_absolutely _typical…_"

Sparing the two most politically powerful men on the face of the Planet only the quickest of glances, Reno continued. "So yeah. There's your answer. It wasn't meant to be a kidnapping, what happened – the guys were just there for my Materia at first. Unfortunately, the ringleader and I turned out to have more than our share of bad blood, and he was aiming for my life once he knew who I was. Turk, yeah – I was one, all right, but I was also piss-drunk and would've lost, if she hadn't burst in on the scene like some conquering hero." He laughed, leaning back against the wall, and if green eyes turned soft in recollection, no witness to the scene would ever admit it. "Heroine, actually. In really tiny shorts."

Reeve sighed and bit his lip. It would not do to laugh in the presence of the man whose help (and energy contract) they needed, no matter how funny his expression had become at the end of Reno's anecdote. "_Reno_"

"Okay, okay. You wanted your answer? Here, in simple terms: what she did created a life-debt, and I need the Boss-Man's and your help, because I can't ignore what she did, and can't do too much on my own to help her as I am now, and she's your daughter and all. Or, 'cause you're obviously waiting for it, rule thirteen in the Turk Handbook is pretty clear on never disregarding one of those debts."

Godo smiled over his teacup. "And so you admit freely –"

" –I'm no Turk anymore, no. Ya can't belong to something that doesn't exist. Doesn't matter who I am or what I am anyway – she saved my life, and I'm not about to let her die slowly for extending the favour that she did. I don't get what goes on in her head any more than anyone else does, but –" Reno paused to listen as the sound of footsteps and a distant argument approached.

"…and I don't care if he's busy or otherwise occupied or half-asleep, gorramit – I want to know what he's doing sending off Summons on my supply route and scarin' all the new kids out of their thrice-damned knickers, and _you can bet that_ –" The tatami door slid to the side as Cid Highwind stormed into the room without further announcement. Godo's glacial 'Mister Highwind' brought the pilot up short, but after a quick bow to the Wutaian leader, Cid recovered, dusting the road-dust from the shoulders of his worn leather jacket. "Evenin', Lord Godo. I was hoping I might be able to steal the attention of your honoured guest to ask him to explain a thing or two. It won't take a second."

"Damn, man - take a number," Reno laughed.

"I don't remember askin' your permission or opinion, _Turk._"

Reno growled, his fingers flexing into a fist. "I'm not the only one who _used _t'work for Shinra in this room, Highwind."

"Why you boot-licking little –"

"_Gentlemen."_ Godo Kisaragi's tone brooked no refusal. "Might I remind you both that this is hardly the venue, _and_ that there are rather more important issues to be concerned over? Please, calm yourselves."

As the pilot plunked on the third cushion around the table with a predatory glance in the direction of the unused teacup, and Reno resumed his casual sprawl, Reeve spoke. "Cid, I wasn't the one who released Bahamut anywhere near a shoreline: through a tangle of circumstance and sheer bad luck, the summon fell into Yuffie's possession, and it appears that she cast it either in a panic or in self-defence. That said," he added, "precisely how much and what exactly do you know at present about her disappearance?"

_. o ._

Back in Junon, Matthias was turning the locks on his store's front door when a knock came from the other side. "Store's closed," the brunet hollered. "We're open again tomorrow at nine." He turned away from the door, but the sound of metal scraping across stone caused him to spin around to see what had caused the noise. With a mixture of amusement and worry, he realized that it had come from a familiar, tiny shuriken that had been pushed under the door. With a sigh, Matthias walked over to the door and unbolted the lock. "You can come in now, Miss Kisaragi."

"I told you," the redheaded girl teased, shaking her hair to rid it of the rain, "the name's Akiko."

Rolling his eyes, Matthias moved to take Yuffie's coat, which loosed a small torrent of water onto his freshly-swept floor as her hood collapsed. "Damn - did Adrian drop you in the ocean before dropping you off, kid?"

Yuffie glared. "I walked. I didn't want to be any more trouble to Gran or her husband."

"And so I get the honour because…"

From where she had settled, perched – _fittingly_, he noted – on the glass display case that housed the better shuriken in the store, she smiled winningly. "I need more weapons. And yeah, I've got the money. But I need your help, too."

Matthias leant against the same counter with a frown. "And exactly what sort of help would you be looking for at this hour of night?"

Yuffie sneezed violently. "A dry blanket and some tea'd be awesometastic for starters, Mattie. And none of that crappy Continental stuff, either."

Matthias shook his head, choosing to ignore the nickname. "I don't suppose," he asked, not moving an inch, "at some point between your childhood education and tromping around the Continent that you ever heard a little saying about beggars and choosers."

"Nope!" Yuffie's smile was impossibly blissful, but she blinked as Matthias held his ground. "…gawd, _okay_, sure I did, but it never hurts to ask?"

As she smiled, he walked behind the counter and into the backroom, emerging seconds later with a tartan quilt in loud blues and greens. "The first I can help you with," Matthias said, handing it to her. After relocking the front door, he settled into a chair against the wall and offered its twin to the ninja still sitting on his display cases. As she jumped down from the counter and curled into the office chair, Matthias continued. "The second, not so much. Why don't you tell me why you're really here, Miss Kisaragi?"

Any coy girlishness that Yuffie had channelled evaporated from her expression. "I meant what I said about weapons, and I know you have ties to what used to be Shinra. I heard you after I left the other day and Adrian confirmed it."

Matthias sighed, using the reflex to shift his hand closer to the gun holster at his hip. "You look awfully tangled in that blanket to be after me for vengeance, Yuffie."

"I'm not. Not against you, 'cause if I were, there would've been a shuriken embedded in your backbone the second you stretched to grab this lovely blanket." Yuffie snuggled further into the fabric, her eyes calm but the corner of her lip tugging upwards.

"The fact that you can _smile_ and say that is kind of creepy, miss." When she laughed, he relaxed, but his hand didn't move. "So if you're not after me…"

"I need you to get me in touch with Reeve Vanh and his staff in NeoMidgar. I know you can do it, Matthias. I _need_ you to, because this is too big for me to take on by myself, especially since half the Planet thinks I'm dead and at least another quarter might want to make sure of it thanks to the whole Channeling thing and probably the _other_ quarter _works_ for that Chao-damned company. I wanted to get him back for everything he's done; wanted to show that I could stand alone and get those bastards for nearly drowning me and puncturing the hell out of my _throwing_ shoulder and _poisoning_ me but then they go and pull an innocent girl into it – Leviathan's _balls,_ I could just -"

"Slow down – Channeling? Poison? _Drowning?_ Yuffie, what do you mean by 'innocent girl'?"

"Priscilla – he has Priscilla, and that's all my fault."

She pulled the quilt between her hands, breathing carefully, but he could sense her panic, and spoke slowly and quietly. "You mean Adrian and Grania's Priscilla, right? Why would –"

"She's leverage. He – they – _whoever_ – lost me and they want me back, but they took her, because she was the closest thing to me they could find." The blanket was still wrapped around Yuffie's shoulders, but the ninja uncurled herself and faced Matthias, her posture suddenly refined. "The girl's _like me._ But she's only thirteen…"

Matthias nodded tightly, understanding the unsaid. "And Adrian? Grania?"

Yuffie sneezed. "They're okay – Adrian's ex-military, right? He said he'd have some friends keep an eye out for them, but with me there, there'd be too many questions, so we thought, maybe, it'd be best if I wasn't around, you know?"

"C'mon." Waving her towards the other door at the back of the shop, Matthias reached for the light switches. "I'm guessing that you need a place to crash, and I've got a spare sleeping bag."

"And tea?" Yuffie asked, hopeful.

Matthias chuckled, and letting the ninja skip up the stairs in front of him. He wasn't entirely certain how she could manage such a feat considering that the blanket still draped around her shoulders trailed past her feet, but didn't question it. "I can't stand the stuff," he called after her. "But if you look in the blue tin by the stove, you might find some hot chocolate powder." She disappeared in a blur of blue, green, and red; he realized at the top of the stairs that he'd forgotten entirely about turning the store lamps off.

By the time that Matthias turned the door to his apartment, she had appropriated his couch, and had his largest mug cradled between her hands. Before he could protest, Yuffie pointed wordlessly at the second-largest mug resting precariously on the corner of his stove, filled to the brim with hot chocolate. "Thanks," he said, picking up the mug and padding towards his room. "I'm going to hit the kip for the night, and I'll see what I can help you with in the morning." Turning back around, he added, "and if I find anything missing, miss, I'll find you and your hands will be forfeit."

Yuffie stuck out her tongue. "Same goes if _I_ find you've touched me, mister." She turned back to her hot chocolate. As his footsteps sounded down the short hallway, Yuffie allowed herself her first honest smile of the evening as she savoured the lingering richness of the hot chocolate on her tongue and the warmth of her skin under the borrowed blanket. _Especially in emergency situations,_ she thought, _a girl's got to have her priorities._

_. o ._

As the Highwind touched down on Junon's municipal outskirts, Cid didn't take his eyes from his ship when he addressed his redheaded passenger. "I don't have ta tell ya to be damn careful when you go in there, Reno. Get her back, all right?"

Reno shouldered his pack, tugging at the cords that held the wrapped spikes of Yuffie's Oritsuru to the bag to secure them. With a wide grin, he jumped over the railing of the airship. He grimaced at the mud that had immediately coated his shoes and specked the rest of his clothing upon landing, and looked up. "That's the plan, Highwind. Thanks for the lift."

"Keep in touch, Turk. And I _also_ don't need to tell you that if you hurt her… damn, I sure's Hades wouldn't want to be you if that were found to be the case."

"Nah, nah. I get it." Reno straightened his pack and laughed over the rain. "You're all just a bunch of saps and mother hens at heart, aren't ya?"

"What's that, 'thanks for the help, Captain Highwind, sir?' _Thought so_, punk." Cid roared at the redhead as he started the engines up again, but couldn't help his smile.

"Whatever, old man." Reno turned from the airship, but as he waved a farewell over his shoulder, his lips also curved into a smile. True, he was soaking wet, and still had a ninja-girl to track down, but the weight of her Oritsuru against his back was almost comforting. Leverage, he'd learned, never hurt. _And_ _hey, _he thought, _at least_ _we're finally on the same continent._

* * *

_. o ._

_…to be continued …_

_. o ._

* * *

**_Sabe's Scribbles:_**_ The canon characters and locations continue to belong to Squaresoft; I borrow them erratically. Huge and honest thank-yous to: the reviewers, both signed and anonymice, to Reno S for not taking me out for failing the challenge (better late than never?), and to T and Kai for listening and bouncing ideas with me in every direction but straightforward. This story's a big "what if?" at heart so it's always fun to hear about the reactions of those who have come along for the ride._

_Cheers!_


	12. The Waiting Game

NOT WHAT I'LL HAVE YOU BELIEVE

**part twelve -- the waiting game**

. o .

* * *

"I'm not going to watch your back if you run off, miss, but you need a place to stay, and here's safer than Adrian's."

It wasn't the most charming line, maybe, but Matthias's offer as he looked over to where she was waking up was one of the best she'd heard in a long time. Or at least a week. Yawning, Yuffie blamed her watery smile on exhaustion. "Thanks." She still wasn't certain that she could trust him, but she'd woken up in the same place that she'd fallen asleep, and that already was an improvement compared to the last few days. _So for now, he's cool. And really, I _did_ kinda shove my way in here..._ Her smile grew. "Thanks for the blanket, too."

"You looked cold," he said, ducking into the tiny kitchen and returning with a butter dish and two plates piled high with toast. Most of the bread was burnt almost black, but she wasn't complaining.

"Jam?" she asked, hopefully.

"Check the icebox," he replied, setting the plates on the small table in front of the couch. Spreading butter over one of the thick slices, he had to keep from laughing as the Kisaragi princess all but dove into his fridge. "Don't _break_ it," he scolded. "Weapons aren't as lucrative an enterprise as everyone always thinks."

She ignored him, leaning even further in, and emerged with a triumphant shout and three colourful glass jars. Dashing to her side of the couch, she slathered the first slice with generous amounts of jam from each jar. Matthias wasn't sure how great a blend of apricot, cherry, and mulberry jams would taste, but her expression was blissful. Taking a little of the apricot for his own toast, Matthias laughed. "So that's your secret - you run on sugar."

Yuffie smiled back around her toast. "Sometimes."

"And here I'd been so sure it was coffee."

"Coffee," she said, wrinkling her nose, "will stunt my growth."

He laughed.

"_Hey,_" she pouted. "Just because I'm a little vertically-challenged doesnt mean I cant kick your Junonite ass, mister."

"Oh? In that case..." Matthias reached for Yuffie's remaining toast. "I'd better not nurse you back to top cond-"

Before he could finish, Yuffie had snatched back her plate and had put it on her lap. "Gawd, Mattie, _chill._ I was _going_ to say I don't beat up people who feed me."

He laughed, but corrected her this time. "Matthias."

"Mattie suits you," she teased.

"Not since I was five years old, it hasn't," he replied, picking up his plate. "C'mon. We've got to open up shop."

She frowned, but did the same. "You just said 'we'."

"Yeah, I did," Matthias replied. "It'll keep your hands busy, and your expertise with the Wutaian stuff will come in handy. I've got a shipment coming in this morning that you can help me with."

Yuffie wiped the crumbs from the corner of her mouth with surprising delicacy. "I'm a princess," she said. "I don't work for free."

Matthias rolled his eyes, and then looked pointedly at the suddenly empty jam jars and the blanket still wrapped around the ninja's shoulders.

She scuffed her toe against the carpet. "...I'll work for jam and blankets?"

"Jam and blankets," he affirmed. "And as promised, a call in to Reeve, if I can get a hold of him, once we get that shipment. Business has been good - we can close the shop for a while and figure this out."

Yuffie grinned at that and bounded down the stairs in front of a bemused Matthias. But as one hour turned to three, and the mid-day sun beat in through the windows, they started to exchange worried looks.

"Probably they're just being held at the port," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "You know how red tape can be."

"Maybe," she said, unconvinced, but the sudden rumble in her stomach distracted her. "Hey - is there anywhere around here that I can pick up some food?"

"Sure, but you probably shouldn't --"

"Won't be five minutes, I _promise_."

"Suit yourself," Matthias replied. "The deli at the end of the street serves great sandwiches, and there's a noodle shop just behind it. Bring me back a pastrami sandwich or some stirfry, okay?"

"Okay," she grinned.

"_Try_ to be careful, Yuffie," he said. "I really don't want to have to answer to Reeve."

"Its Akiko," she corrected, and he nodded, remembering the pseudonym from earlier. "And, you wuss, Reeve's not scary."

"Right," he said, "and wrong, respectively. You've never broken one of his clockworks, obviously."

Yuffie's hand froze on the doorknob, and she radiated curiosity as she spun to face him. "And you're still _breathing? Damns_. That's a story I want to hear."

"Later," he answered, waving her out the door. "Hungry."

Shaking her head, she left the weapons shop. _Men and their one-track minds,_ she thought, frowning. But as her stomach grumbled again, Yuffie sighed. _Okay, maybe he's got a point. Now, does the end of the street mean up the block or down it? _Her mission in mind, she joined the lunch-time rush of people passing by. _No big deal - this is a city. I'll find _something.

. o .

He couldn't quite believe the girl was Yuffie when he first saw her; her hair was even shorter, and dyed a ridiculous colour, and she had on a very uncharacteristic frown - but she moved like the girl he'd fought with, and some things could not be so quickly altered. The people on the narrow street gave her the occasional glance, he noticed, stopping to look at the small weapons shop that she had just exited. But, despite having her unaltered likeness plastered on an even fifth of the light-poles in the city, she seemed to pass without trouble as someone else.

Still, it seemed that she remained wary; when he looked back down the street, there was no sign of her in the crowd. He thought about fighting through it; he could, with no trouble, but knew he couldn't call out to her without destroying both of their disguises. With a sigh, Cloud pulled out his phone and tapped in a message to Reno, who must have stolen his phone details while they were on the _Murasaki_ and had called him as soon as Highwind's airship had taken off, leaving the redhead on the Continent just outside of Lower Junon. The men had met that morning, and split after breakfast; Cloud to drop off his part of the cargo and then rejoin Reno, who - provided he could be trusted - was searching for Yuffie nearby. So with any luck, if she held her direction, Yuffie was headed straight for the ex-Turk.

Cloud turned back to the weapons shop, and checked the label of the packages he was carrying from the _Murasaki_. Realizing with pleasant surprise that the addresses were a match, he turned his bike off and headed in, a slight frown tugging the corners of his lips. Yuffie - or a girl he was _certain_ was Yuffie - had just left this shop with no spring in her step or grin on her face, and he knew from experience that Yuffie always left a shop like this in a better mood than she entered. An expression as sour as the one he had seen was no herald of good news, but he was almost glad for it.

He remembered the first shop of this kind that she had gone into as a member of Avalanche quite clearly - because it was then they'd discovered there was a strong and positive correlation between the wattage of Yuffie's smile and the number of weapons she had stolen. Cloud laughed a little at the memory of a mortified Tifa scolding Yuffie after realizing that the younger girl had walked out of the store two throwing knives and a set of rare mythril shuriken richer - and not a gil poorer. Ducking under the shop curtain, his smile grew at the memory of Yuffie's entirely unrepentant reaction. With that (and a long string of similar incidents) a part of their shared history, the news she had just heard was either very bad indeed, or she had finally met her match in thief-proof shopkeepers. _Still,_ he thought, _if that was her, and the reports are true about all her things being in Costa, this shop's got to be lighter for one reason or another._ _I just hope I don't have to buy back any of her Materia._

The fact that the clerk, a young man with a shotgun slung over his back on top of a metalworker's apron, was working a tiny steel shuriken out of its impromptu perch in the wall only cemented Cloud's suspicions. Coughing to announce his presence, Cloud tried a friendly smile as he moved towards the counter, crate in his hands.

"With you in a sec," the clerk said, not turning around. Twisting the metal star carefully, he pulled the shuriken free of the wall. Placing it on the counter, the clerk looked over to him. "So. What brings you in today?" His eyes dropped to the package in Cloud's arms. "Aside from the obvious." He pulled a pen from a can beside the gil-box and snagged the delivery forms from the top of the crate. "Just plunk that down on the counter, but be careful; if it's what it should be, there are some expensive things in there."

"Thanks," Cloud replied, doing just that. "And actually - I thought I saw a friend of mine leaving just as I got in - the redhead? Would you mind me asking what she picked up or looked at?" He scuffed his toe, the lie coming less smoothly than he would have liked. "It's, uh, it's her birthday coming up, and I'd like to find something for her."

"Can't help you."

"There was nothing she was looking at?" Cloud frowned. "It'd mean a lot."

"There was a lot she was looking at, but it wouldn't help you any," the clerk answered, looking carefully at the other man. "Akiko works here, and she's not mentioned having any friends come in from out of town. You've got the wrong girl."

Cloud's gaze flickered over to the hole in the wall, eyes widening as he noticed a matching hole about a foot over. "Huh."

The clerk - Matthias - laughed. "Product testing," he said, wryly. As he spoke, his eyes turned to the package on the counter. "This's the Wutai shipment, right? You guys are later than usual... half a day, maybe?"

Cloud didn't miss a beat. "You've heard about the Junon port closing, right? No? Long story short, we had to detour to Neo-Midgar and send everything overland from there. With the rail the way it is," he added, "you're lucky we made it this early." He paused - _something_ was off. Deciding to push his luck, Cloud continued. "All this trouble's over one girl, too - that Wutaian princess. You wouldn't _believe_ the gil that's being offered up for her return." Cloud had never been good at mind games, and would have done nearly anything for the quick wit and silver tongue of the girl he was looking for - or, for that matter, the redhead whose fate seemed to have been entangled with his friend's. Still, even he knew that money could be an incredibly powerful incentive.

To Cloud's surprise, however, Matthias became more guarded instead of more curious. "Oh?" he asked.

The man was clearly hiding something, Cloud decided. _What_ was another matter, and unlikely to be revealed any time soon. He took the silence between them as his cue to leave, picking up the papers from the countertop and settling them into the bag at his hip. "Yeah, that's the story. I almost thought about chasing her down myself, but figure that if I can't even keep an eye on my friends..."

"I see your point," Matthias agreed. "I do hope you find her." As the other man moved to leave, Matthias sliced open the large cardboard box with a single stroke of the knife he kept at his side. Watching this, Cloud was unsure whether he felt reassured by the young man's apparent loyalty, or worried by it. The gun on the clerk's back was, without question, functional, so at least Yuffie had chosen wisely, although more for his discretion despite Cloud's inquiries. Hopefully the man would see reason; if they didn't recover Yuffie, and quietly, the city would light up... Shaking out of his thoughts, Cloud zipped up his coat and managed a "thank you" as he ducked out the door. _Thanks, _he thought, _but I'd bet Ifrit that I've already found her._

_. o ._

Meanwhile, Reno was pacing. Strife had sent over the coordinates of where he thought Yuffie might be headed, and while there should have been a ninja girl with a Bahamut materia all gift-wrapped and waiting for him, reality was doing everything but living up to expectations. He toyed with the goggles that were slung around his neck, and spun on his heel to head down the shadowy alley to his left. All of a sudden, a weight barreled into his side, almost knocking him off balance. "Hey, watch it," he snarled. "I - _huh._"

He blinked.

She shook her head. "_Damn_, Red - we really have to stop meeting like this."

He couldn't help himself. He reached out, his eyes wide, and tugged at her hair with a grin. "Not that it's not awesome and stupidly flattering, but what the _hell _happened to your hair, Princess?"

She removed his hand and danced backwards, but returned his grin with one of her own. "Clearly, you've never heard of going undercover. Or stealth. Or subtlety. Or - "

Walking forward, he leaned over her. "I get it," he retorted. "And generally, 'stealthy' doesn't include dyeing your hair _fire-engine red_ or bumping into the delicate shoulders of strangers, hey."

Her look screamed _you, delicate?_

"Shut up," he said, still grinning.

"Didn't say anything," she retorted.

"Didn't need to," he replied, telling himself that the curl of his lips and the hand that had found its way to her waist (and just when had _that_ happened?) was due purely to amusement over how absolutely ridiculous she looked and slight fatigue on his part, for not having eaten anything of circumstance over the past day and a half. Yup, that was it. But, speaking _of - _

Looking around for any nearby restaurants or food stands, he was the first to notice Cloud turn the corner. Waving the other man over, Reno missed the way that Yuffie's expression changed from fear to uncertainty to wide-eyed shock, but he couldn't miss how she started bouncing on her toes, excited, as she stood beside him. _Still such a child_, he thought, and then remembered that his hand was still attached to said child's waist - and, wondering acutely why she hadn't used it as target practice yet or shoved it off, took a step back. Cloud had seemed okay with him in theory, but they were all running on short fuses. He could take on the soldier turned sailor, but any fight would draw a crowd, and for all his bluster, Reno wasn't stupid.

By this time the young man on his bike had reached them, and was measuring up the petite redhead at Reno's side. "Who's the gir - _oh,_" he sighed as she stuck out her tongue and grinned wickedly. "Oh_, Shiva_. You know what? I don't even want to know. Nope. Not at all. That's just creepy, you two."

Maybe it was the tension of the last few days; maybe it was that they really did make quite the pair, but the two redheads burst into laughter. To their surprise, Cloud's baritone chuckle joined in, and the three leant against each other as they caught their breath.

"We should get out of the open," Cloud said, eyeing the street with its traffic and shops bustling around them.

"I nominate anywhere that serves real food," Reno replied.

"I know just the place," Yuffie said, her spirits buoying as the men flanked her; Reno - tall and tense and _very, _wonderfully alive - was a warm presence at her left, and Cloud - brunet and quiet but solid in a way he had never really seemed before - walked his rented motorbike beside her . "It isn't far from here," she continued, "and he shouldn't mind at all. I just have to pick up some pastrami sandwiches and some jam first."

Reno's jaw dropped. "Princess, you've got a bounty on your head and you're worrying about _pastrami sandwiches_?" He grinned. "You're my kind of crazy."

As Yuffie attempted to hide her blush with a dramatic wheeling around in the direction of the weapons shop, Cloud rolled his eyes. '_Not the girl_,' _indeed_. _This_ _is going to be interesting_. He only hoped he would survive it.

. o .

**...tbc...**

. o .

* * *

**sabe's scribbles: ...**I could bawl at how much I've missed these two. Three, really - Cloud was a ridiculous amount of fun to write, too. It never ceases to amuse me how he worked his way into this story; I had everything all planned out and he wasn't even going to have a small part, but here it is and here he is! Sorry that this is more of a transition chapter than anything; it is really the first part of a longer chapter that I decided to split up. Part two – gunning for the end of next week at this rate. That said, I'm really sorry about leaving half a year in between updates - I'll try to finish this story before I have children old enough to read it, okay? Haha, kidding. Mostly. As always, thanks for reading, and your thoughts are loved!

**disclaimer: **In this chapter, Matthias and Adrian are my creations, but (most of) the rest is not - even the pastrami sandwiches, which is a pity, as they are delicious, and finding one in rural Japan is impossible!


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